About A Boy and His Veela
by bleedingxheart
Summary: On the eve of his sixteenth birthday, Draco Malfoy discovers something about himself. He's a Veela. And his mate is Harry Potter. Fate can really be a bitch sometimes. HPDM Slash Veela fic.
1. Discoveries

**AN: This will be my second attempt at a Veela fic. I've read my fair share of them, so I know the ins and outs of all the clichés etc. Although à mon avis, some of those clichés are beneficial to a fic. Anyway.**

**Non HBP reliant, I don't own anything nor am I making any money out of doing this. All that jazz. Enjoy!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter One - Discoveries

_June 4th _

The vast and beautiful grounds of Malfoy Manor glowed gold underneath the setting sun. As the light gradually disappeared, however, the heat in the air remained, leaving the promise of a sticky and uncomfortable night.

Draco Malfoy leaned his hands against the windowsill, watching as the gardens he could see from his bedroom window adapted a spectacular shade of deep pink under the rays of the sun.

He stayed there, quiet and still, until the entire world slowly and surely dissolved into black. Only then did he move from his position, crossing the considerable width of the room and taking a seat on the magnificent bed.

He folded his arms and frowned absently at the third-century Persian rug beneath his feet, thinking. He had arrived home a few days ago. As expected, his father was not present, being locked up in Azkaban thanks to the events that had happened at the Ministry of Magic a week or so before school had ended. His mother had greeted him in the parlour, and he had found himself feeling startled at the change in her. Her movements, her aura, had all seemed so smooth and free.

Since then, he had seen her at mealtimes, where she would yet again exude an air about her that had never been present before. It was puzzling, to say the least, and Draco wanted badly to know what had happened. However, he had been raised to be the very epitome of patience and manners, and so waited for his mother to make the first move.

A soft pop sounded, announcing the arrival of his mother's personal house elf, Delia. The little elf bowed low in front of him.

"Begging your pardon, young master, for the intrusion." She squeaked nervously. "But my mistress is wishing to speak with you at once."

_Finally. _Draco stood up from the bed, and nodded to Delia. "Thank you. Tell her I am on my way."

"At once, young master!" the little elf cried, and she disappeared again with another soft pop.

Draco hurried to the other side of his bedroom, where a full length, golden-framed mirror stood against the wall. He checked his reflection quickly, making sure his hair and clothing was suitably presentable. All being in order, he headed for the door, closing it securely behind him, and then set out for his mother's rooms.

He found Narcissa in her study, a beautiful room that was filled with antique bookshelves, which were in turn lined with row upon row of dusty books. A magnificently carved desk from Victorian times was proudly positioned to the far right of the room, and in the centre was an enormous fireplace. Narcissa was waiting for him on one of the plush, Slytherin-green sofas that circled the fireplace.

He tapped the side of the doorframe to announce his presence. "Mother?"

"Draco." She smiled at him. "You're prompt. Come, sit with me."

Obediently, he crossed the threshold and took a seat on a sofa opposite hers.

"You're probably wondering what's been going on." She said softly.

Draco inclined his head.

"I don't know where to begin." She mused, her delicate hands fiddling with the pale satin of her gown.

Draco was silent for a moment, considering this. "The beginning, perhaps?" he suggested.

"Yes, yes, of course." She smiled at him again, leaving him feeling stunned at how beautiful she was when she smiled. He hadn't seen her smile in many years.

"Well, I suppose I should tell you about the situation with your father, first of all." She sighed, releasing the material in between her fingers and folding her hands neatly in her lap. "You are of course aware that certain events a few weeks ago led him to be arrested and taken to Azkaban."

"Yes."

"I, for one, hope he rots there forever."

Draco's mouth fell open in surprise and shock. Realising how unseemly he must look, he closed it again, staring incredulously at his mother.

"Oh, my dragon." She said sadly. "I have so much to tell you." She took a deep breath. "Years ago, when I turned sixteen, I noticed something different in the way males behaved towards me."

"I had always been popular amongst my year-mates, but suddenly I was receiving propositions left and right from potential suitors." She looked at him seriously. "My parents wanted me to marry into a good family, and a lot of the suitor's families were not ideal. Lucius Malfoy, however, was rather taken with me, and by my seventh year at school he had decided it was me he wanted to marry and to have his heir."

"Naturally, my parents were thrilled. The Malfoy family is the most prestigious and powerful in all of Europe." She looked sad, full of old memories. "I begged them to change their minds, but I had no power over them, especially my father. After I graduated from school, the wedding was arranged. I was barely eighteen years old when we were married."

"Eighteen?" Draco echoed, shocked. He had always known his parents marriage had been arranged, and that his mother had been young when it took place, but he had never speculated that she had been that young.

"Yes." She nodded. "Your father was twenty years old. Our marriage caused an enormous celebration all over Europe. He was the primary heir of the Malfoy line, and so needed to provide an heir of his own. Marrying me was the first step, one that many people were concerned he would never take."

"So you have never actually…loved Father?" Draco asked, feeling shaken to the core.

Narcissa shook her head. "No. I despise the man."

"I see." He supposed it wasn't really that surprising – his parents had never seemed to have an ideal relationship. He thought that was just to keep up appearances. Evidently not.

"So…why are you telling me all this?"

"Patience, my dragon." She smiled. "I haven't even begun to tell you everything yet."

_What else could there be?_ Draco wondered, as his mother resumed her story once more.

"So as it was, I found myself eighteen years old and married to a man I did not love. The future seemed bleak to me. I hated and resented my husband. I hated it when he touched me. I did not want to be the mother of any child of his."

Draco tried not to feel too offended as she continued. "When I did consent to lay with him, we ran into difficulties. I could not conceive a child, for reasons I didn't find out until much later. He was…displeased with me. He hit me. He was furious at himself for choosing me when I couldn't provide him with an heir."

"Over time, I realised that I did want a child, however much I hated who its father would be. I reasoned that maybe I could raise the child with only a minimum of his influence."

"After I had put myself into that mindset, miraculously, I found out I was pregnant, in the autumn of the year where I turned twenty. Lucius ceased hitting me at last, for I had finally done something correctly."

Draco winced at this wording.

"About sixteen years ago, you were born. And you were perfect, everything I had wanted and hoped for. For the first few years of your life he allowed me to feed you, change you, teach you. I didn't ask for his help. I was happy, because I had you."

Her beautiful features seemed to darken suddenly. "When you were around five years old, however, he told me that he would now be taking over your upbringing. I resisted, knowing he would mould you to become just like him. He began hitting me, not relenting until I gave in."

She smiled at him through the tears that had formed in her large blue eyes. "I know I have probably seemed completely different to you since you got home, but that is because he is not here, and I am finally able to do and say as I see fit. I don't have to have that cold exterior he wanted me to have around you. I love you, my Dragon, and I'm so sorry I was not the mother I wanted to be while you were growing up."

Draco stared at her, thoroughly confused. This explained everything, everything, about his mother's behaviour towards him growing up. He remembered suddenly the lies Lucius had told him, about his mother not really caring for him. His grey eyes darkened now, fury clear on his face.

"I plan to divorce him by summer's end." Narcissa said quietly.

Startled, Draco's mouth fell open again. "Divorce him?"

"Divorce him." She confirmed. "I cannot stand for you to enter this stage in your life and for me to still be tied down to that excuse for a man."

"Alright." Draco's breathing was shallow, his brain desperately trying to grasp the situation he was in now. "So Father is imprisoned and still an avid supporter of the Dark Lord, and you are divorcing him and…what?"

"I refuse to bow to anyone anymore." She said, her voice strong, her head held high. "I was never a Death Eater myself. Lucius knew enough not to force me into that. I do believe in some of the Dark Lord's philosophies, however I believe he has taken things too far. I think some kind of mutual understanding can be reached between wizards and muggles. Once the divorce is final I intend to go to Albus Dumbledore and declare myself as a supporter of the Light. I want no part in that madman's doings."

Draco stared at his mother, so proud and beautiful on the sofa opposite him. It was disconcerting to have grown up with her so silent and cold in the background, and to see her now filled with such fire and conviction.

His father had raised him to believe in the Dark Lord's cause. When he was younger he had believed devotedly. As he got older, however, it had become harder and harder to see the reasoning behind Lucius' beliefs. It had been made doubly so last Christmas holidays, when Lucius had taken Draco to meet the Dark Lord. Draco still remembered the shock he'd felt when he saw his father, always superior and composed, on his knees, kissing the dirt-ridden hem of the Dark Lord's robes. He had been filled with doubt and desperation ever since, not wanting the future set out for him anymore but not knowing how to get out of it.

Narcissa was regarding him seriously now. "Draco, I need to know now, before I tell you anything else – will you follow your father or me in the upcoming war?"

Draco took deep, calming breaths. Here it was. An out, an escape from the future he had discovered he didn't want anymore.

He straightened up on his seat, lifted his chin proudly. "I will be proud to follow you, Mother." He stated.

Narcissa shot up from her seat over to his before he could barely even blink. Next second, she was hugging him tightly.

"Oh, my Dragon." She said, her voice thick with emotion. "I am so happy to hear you say that."

Startled, Draco awkwardly returned the hug. No one had ever really hugged him before, except for Pansy, sometimes. This was different though; this was a hug from his mother.

She pulled away and returned to her seat, straightening her gown as she sat.

"So is that all you wanted to tell me?" Draco asked. "That you're divorcing Father and switching sides?"

Narcissa smiled a little ruefully. "No, that's not quite all." She said gently. "Why don't I order us some tea?"

Bewildered, Draco inclined his head nonetheless, and Narcissa summoned Delia to procure tea for them. Once the silver tray was resting on the table between them and the house elf had disappeared once more with a pop, Narcissa picked up her cup and handed Draco one as well. She took a dainty sip and then looked at him seriously.

"You know, of course, the genealogy of both sides of your family." It was a statement, not a question, and it was true – Draco had studied his ancestry from a young age. "Pure-blooded wizards on both sides."

Draco nodded, taking a sip from his own tea. "Right."

"The first thing I must tell you is that that is not correct."

Draco's eyes bugged out, and he very nearly choked on the mouthful of tea he had been in the process of swallowing. "Not correct?" he spluttered, hastily setting the cup back down. "How could it not be correct?"

"My great-grandfather," Narcissa replied, looking grave, "Orion Black, had an affair with a full-blooded Veela called Virgia. Their son Plutos Black, my grandfather, was a half-blooded veela."

Draco could only stare at her. "So your father…Corvus Black…has Veela blood?"

"Correct." Narcissa nodded.

"But that's not possible!" Draco protested. "I've met him, he's not good looking at all! His hair is black, not blonde!"

"Yes, but there's more to it than that." She smiled. "The Veela gene is recessive, it's known to skip generations. Sometimes it manifests itself in ways that are not immediately assumed to be related to Veela. My father has always had unquestionable power over others, a charisma that no one his age has. It's his Veela genes."

"My parents and my sisters all have black hair and dark eyes. As does did my uncle and aunt, and my cousins did too. My grandfather, though, had blonde hair and blue eyes. The gene was dominant in him."

"Your grandfather, so my…great-grandfather?" Draco said.

"Correct." Narcissa nodded again. "Plutos Black was a half-Veela. That gene was recessive with his sons. It became dominant in me rather than my sisters."

Draco tried to calculate. "Which makes you…"

"A quarter-blooded Veela." Narcissa supplied. "It's not enough that I have a life-mate, or that I grow a beak when I'm angry, or even have an allure, as full-blooded Veelas do. I only have the physical traits, appearance wise, and I have slightly more magical power than my sisters."

She sighed. "My research told me why, at first, I could not conceive with Lucius. I have enough Veela blood that the idea of reproducing with someone I do not love caused my body to…stop working, as it were. It was only when I decided I did actually want a child, and felt love for the idea of that child, that my body began working again, and I was able to conceive."

"So…is that what you wanted to tell me, that I have Veela blood?"

She looked hesitant, as though there was more to the story. "Yes…"

"So I'm an eighth Veela?" he prompted her.

She absently straightened the skirt of her gown, averting her eyes from him. "Not exactly, no." she said finally.

"But how? If you're a quarter-blooded Veela, that would make me an eighth Veela." Draco reasoned.

She cleared her throat delicately. "It would…if that was the only source of your Veela blood."

Draco stared at her, not sure he had heard her correctly. "What?"

"I did a little research into the Malfoy family tree." She said quietly. "Your great-grandfather, Alistair Malfoy, also had an affair with a full-blooded Veela, called Carina. Their son Abraxas, your grandfather, was a half-veela. Thus, Lucius has a dominant Veela gene as well. He's a quarter-blooded Veela, like me."

Draco could still only stare at her. "That's…that's impossible…" he protested.

"I wanted to try and help you see the error of your father's ways, because he would act terribly towards you if he knew." She said gently. "Because both of us have a dominant Veela gene, you take Veela blood from both sides of your family. You are actually a half-blooded Veela, my Dragon."

"I'm a…I'm a Veela?" Draco whispered, still staring incredulously at his mother. "A half-blooded Veela?"

"Yes." She said. "I assume you've learnt about them at school?"

"Not really," he breathed, his voice slightly shaky. "I know a little about them though."

"Well, what do you know of them?"

"They're the most beautiful creatures on earth." Draco said, eyes glazed. "They have soul mates, individuals who are destined for them. Once bonded with that person, they'll be with that person forever."

"Yes." She said. "Veela are creatures of love and beauty. They are complete once they are with their mate."

"Mother…" Draco said, sounding extremely shaken, "…if I'm a half-blooded Veela and not a full-blooded Veela, that means I won't have a mate, doesn't it?"

Narcissa smiled gently. "Because you are a half-blood Veela and the gene is dominant in you from myself and Lucius, yes, you will have a mate."

Draco shook his head. "No." he said, as though saying so would make it all untrue. "No, that can't be."

"You must try to see it as a positive thing, my Dragon." She soothed, moving so she was sitting beside him on his sofa. She rubbed his back lovingly. "If you have any questions, feel free to ask them."

"Will anything in particular happen to me?" Draco asked desperately. "Will I sprout wings suddenly, or if someone insults me, will I grow a beak or something unseemly like that?"

"No, no." she chuckled gently. "Those traits are particular to full-blooded Veela. You are still half-wizard, remember."

"Well, will anything happen to me?"

"Traditionally, when Veela come of age, they go through a process that is referred to as coming into their inheritance." Narcissa said.

Draco brightened slightly at this. "You mean inheritance like money?"

She frowned good-naturedly at him. "No, not money. Material possessions are unimportant to Veela." She lectured. "I mean you will properly inherit the Veela traits that are in your genes. They're triggered by you turning sixteen years old."

"Sixteen?" he exclaimed, leaping up and away from her. "But I turn sixteen tomorrow!"

She absently tucked a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Yes, my Dragon." She said patiently. "You will come into your inheritance tomorrow. That's why I chose to tell you this tonight, so you were properly aware of who you are and what will be happening to you."

"So this inheritance, then." Draco said desperately, "What exactly are the Veela traits you mentioned?"

Narcissa began ticking them off on her hand. "A change in appearance, first of all. You're likely to become even more attractive and good looking."

Draco scoffed. _As if that's even possible for me. _

"You will probably experience an increase in your magical power and control. You may also gain a charm unique to Veela called an allure, although it's never entirely certain if you will have it or, if you do, how powerful it will be."

"Anything else?" Draco asked.

"Your general intelligence and academic abilities will increase." Narcissa answered. "Veela may be beautiful, but they are also extremely intelligent when they wish to be."

"I see." Draco sat back down beside his mother, trying to take it all in. "And…what about my…mate?" He cleared his throat. The word felt unnatural to say.

"What about them, Dragon?"

"Will it be just…just a random person off the street?" Draco voiced his fear. "Will it be a Mudblood, or a…"

"Draco!" Narcissa said suddenly, sharply. He looked at her in confusion.

"Don't say that word in front of me." She said, a little less sharply. "It's derogatory. Such language should never be heard from the mouth of a Veela."

Draco's mouth worked noiselessly. "But…" he protested.

"No." she said firmly. "You told me you would follow me, and that means obeying my rules. That word should only be used by the blinded, foolish followers of that madman. It has no place for supporters of the Light."

This was undoubtedly true, and Draco suspected his use of the word had only come from his questionable upbringing with his father. He struggled with himself for a moment, and then rephrased the question.

"Will it be a…muggleborn?" he managed.

She nodded approvingly at him. "Good. And perhaps, it could be. Your mate will be the person who matches you mind, body and soul. Once you know who it is, issues such as heritage just won't be issues anymore."

"Well, it would still be easier if she was a pureblood Slytherin." Draco said, and then gasped at the thought. "Merlin, does that mean it's Pansy?"

"No." she assured him. "It may not even be a female."

"You mean my mate, the person who I'm going to be with forever, might be a male?" Draco asked weakly.

She nodded. "Love knows no gender, my Dragon, especially Veela love. Your mate will be your perfect match in every way. Whether they are male or female doesn't matter."

"But how will I know who it is?" he asked.

"There is no specific sign or thing to watch out for." She answered. "Generally, in the past, Veela's mates have been people they knew previous to their inheritance. Many accounts of Veela say that when they saw their mate, they just knew. Some said it took time to realise. Some didn't even realise at all, until they nearly drove themselves crazy thinking about the person."

"I won't die if my mate rejects me, will I?" Draco asked, disturbed by this sudden thought.

"No." Narcissa looked troubled. "Not in the traditional sense. Your body will continue to live, but your mind, and your soul…that is a whole other story."

"I don't understand."

"I'd rather you find out for yourself." She glanced to the clock that was patiently ticking away the minutes above the fireplace. "Come, it's evening. We should go have dinner. If you wish, afterwards, I'll show you the books I found the truth in, and we'll find some books about Veela for you to read."

She stood, and Draco did as well. She surveyed him for a moment.

"Ne fronce pas les sourcils." She said softly, reaching out to smooth his hair. "Being a Veela is an extremely wonderful thing, my Dragon. It will all turn out fine, you'll see."

Draco allowed himself a moment to look, really look, at his mother. She brought to mind the image of an ice queen, beautiful and powerful. Intelligence and fire shone in her blue eyes, and love for him. She would help him through it, of course she would.

"I know, Mother." He said, smiling at her as best as he could.

He allowed her to take his hand, and she led him from the study.

In just a few hours, Draco Malfoy would come into his inheritance.

_TBC  
_  
**AN: The French phrase Narcissa says means 'Don't frown.' **

**Confused about the ancestry/bloodlines? Sorry lol. I'll try and have it more clearly explained later, when Narcissa shows Draco the family trees. Until then, please review and let me know what you thought of the story!**

**Until next time, **

**bleedingxheart**


	2. Dreams and Inheritances

**AN: Wooo! Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. You're all awesome! Here's chapter 2.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Two – Dreams and Inheritances

_June 4th_

"Boy!" The loud bellow of Vernon Dursley resonated throughout Number 4 Privet Drive. "Come down here, now!"

Harry had been lying on his bed, listlessly re-reading Quidditch Through The Ages for the millionth time. Upon hearing his uncle's voice, however, he set the book aside and got up, pushing open the bedroom door and heading down the stairs.

He arrived in the kitchen, where his uncle was seated at the expansive table.

"Yes, Uncle Vernon?" He asked, keeping his tone as neutral and polite as possible.

"Petunia is busy in the garden." He said, tiny eyes narrowed dangerously at Harry. "You're cooking dinner."

To an outsider, this behaviour would seem unnecessarily rude. Which it was, of course, but Harry was used to this treatment. He nodded dully. "Yes, Uncle Vernon." He intoned quietly, already moving to the pantry.

He selected a packet of spaghetti and a jar of sauce, and retrieved mince from the enormous fridge. Pulling out pots and pans, he put some water on to boil on the top-of-the-line stove, and began heating oil in a pan to cook the mince.

Harry was a seasoned professional when it came to domesticity. Years of being forced into such labour had resulted in him, at the age of fifteen, being scarily proficient in the ways of cooking, cleaning and washing. The Dursley's had always delighted in giving him chores to do. Since he had received his letter from Hogwarts, the level and intensity of said chores had lessened slightly, but only just. Harry knew this was because his aunt and uncle, in the back of their minds, were deeply afraid of him, although they would never admit it.

When the oil began to spit, he tipped the mince into the pan, and began automatically stirring it around, gaze fixed out the window above the sink.

The kitchen was at the back of the house, leading out into the backyard, so Harry could see Aunt Petunia, watering can at the ready, passing over the seemingly endless plants and flowers with the greatest of care. The amount of attention she showed to her garden was rivalled only by that which she showed to her son.

Harry frowned as a sudden thought occurred to him. His bloated, buffoon of a cousin was conspicuously absent. He eyed his uncle sitting at the table, head buried in the paper. Deciding it was worth it, Harry cleared his throat.

"Uncle Vernon?"

The paper disappeared, only to be replaced by the large, pink head that so closely resembled a leg of ham. Vernon glared at him.

"What is it, boy?"

"Where's Dudley?"

Vernon continued to glare at him, looking affronted. "Why do you want to know?" he snapped suspiciously.

"I need to know if he'll be home so I know how much food to cook." Harry explained patiently.

"Oh." Vernon struggled for a moment, seemingly trying to find something in this statement to yell about. Obviously failing, he said grudgingly, "He's at a friend's house, but he said he'll be home for dinner." There was a pause, and then an evil grin spread across the fat-bloated face. "At least he sees his friends, unlike you and your freaky friends. They haven't contacted you yet, eh?"

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned back to the cooking. When he had been younger, this treatment had gotten to him. He was older, and a lot wiser now. The act was getting old.

"No." he said levelly, putting the spaghetti into the now boiling water.

"We won't be getting any surprise visits or anything, will we?" Vernon demanded. "Not like last year, with those Denetor things."

"Dementor." Harry corrected absently, running a spoon through the mince to keep it browning evenly. "And not that I'm aware of, no."

"Good." Vernon grunted. He picked up his paper again. "I've had enough of the ruddy things that happen when you're here, boy."

Harry kept silent, ploughing ahead with his task.

HPDM

By 8 o' clock that evening dinner had been cooked and consumed. Harry loaded the dirty plates into the dishwasher, and then wiped down the bench, leaving everything gleaming and perfect as it had been. He quietly slipped out of the kitchen and back up the stairs.

Outside, the heat of the day had resulted in a brewing storm. Harry heard the first, angry rumbles of thunder as he pushed back open his bedroom door and went inside, closing the door again behind him.

His window was open, letting in the heavy, tense air. He walked to it and pulled it shut with a satisfying snap, leaving him in silence once more.

With a sigh, he flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. He had only been here for a few days since the school year had ended, and already he craved being somewhere, anywhere else.

Sirius's death only a few weeks prior still stung. The extreme guilt and grief he had felt during those last few days at Hogwarts had now receded to a painful, numb sensation in his chest. It was difficult, being in this room with no company but Hedwig, and even then only occasionally, to distract him.

He knew it wouldn't be healthy for him to wallow in his sorrow. He knew Sirius wouldn't want him to shut himself away, grieving forever.

Harry sighed, rolling over on his side to face the wall. Easier said than done.

HPDM

There was a sharp _clink _as Narcissa set her fork and knife down onto the now empty plate.

Draco, who was sitting opposite her, stood at once, having waited for her to finish dinner for the last five minutes or so. Narcissa smiled, getting up as well, as a soft pop signalled the arrival of one of the kitchen elves.

"Mistress, young master." He squeaked, bowing low. "I is taking your plates now."

"Thank you." Narcissa said gracefully, and the little elf nearly toppled over in surprise, with the plates in his hands.

"Such a kind mistress!" he sobbed, and then with another soft pop, disappeared from sight.

Narcissa turned to Draco as though there had been no interruption. "Shall we?" she asked him.

He nodded. "Lead the way."

They left the dining room, and expertly navigated the endless halls and rooms, until Draco realised exactly where they were.

"We're in Father's rooms?" he asked his mother, sounding uneasy.

"This is where I found the information, Dragon." She smiled patiently. "Come now, he isn't here. He will never know."

She held her wand to the lock of the door in front of him, and whispered a word Draco couldn't hear. There was a gentle click, and the door swung open. Narcissa walked confidently inside, with Draco hesitantly trailing after her.

The door closed behind them. Draco stared around, mouth open in amazement. They were in Lucius's private library, a room Draco had never been inside in his life, as the door had always been extremely securely locked.

"I imagine your father liked having all these rare books that only he knew about." Narcissa commented, already leading the way past one of the enormous shelves.

"I can imagine." Draco said faintly, staring around them as they walked. The bookshelves stretched nearly floor to ceiling, and they were lined with book upon book upon book. Draco shuddered to think of the nature of some of their content. Evidently, this was where Lucius kept the more undesirable elements of his interests.

"What book are we looking for?" he asked.

"It's in a sealed section." Narcissa answered, turning left at the end of the row. "All of his really special things he kept locked away."

This made sense – his father had always guarded his possessions most jealously. Draco hurried to keep up with his mother's long, purposeful stride.

"Here we are." She said finally, with some satisfaction. They had arrived at another door, perfectly ordinary in every way. Draco stared at it, and then at his mother.

"It doesn't look like a formidable gateway into all of his special things." He remarked dryly.

"That's because I've already gotten past the enchantments he put on it." Narcissa said dismissively, waving a hand. "It looked somewhat different the first time around, Dragon."

"Oh."

Narcissa walked forward and turned the golden handle. The door opened with a slow creak.

"After you." She smiled at her son. Nodding, Draco stepped past her into the room, not without some apprehension. Narcissa closed the door behind them.

The room they were in was noticeably smaller than the one they had just occupied. Only one or two rows of books were present, and they were not floor-to-ceiling ones either. A small, darkly-wooded table stood nearby, surrounded by three or four matching chairs. The room was grudgingly lit by a scattering of torches, positioned around the stone walls.

It was not altogether the most inviting of rooms.

Narcissa raised her wand. "Lumos." She said clearly, and golden light blazed from the tip. She gestured to Draco to follow her, and they moved off down one of the rows.

Narcissa held the wand up to the books, obviously searching for a particular one. Draco tried to catch glimpses of the titles as the light passed over them, but most were so faded as to be indiscernible.

"There it is." Narcissa commented suddenly, and she reached up and pulled out a small, unremarkable book. It was black, with a hard cover. She handed it to Draco, and then resumed her search. Not a minute later, she produced another book; identical to the first except for the fact it was Slytherin-green in colour.

She led them back to the table, where they sat down with the books in front of them.

"This one," she pointed to the black book, "contains a self-updating copy of the Black family tree. A real copy of the Black family tree." She added with a slightly ironic smile. "This one," she pointed to the green book, "is the same, except it contains the Malfoy family tree. It was in these I discovered the truth."

Draco sat quietly, staring at the two books. He looked up at Narcissa.

"Can I look in them?"

"Of course." Narcissa smiled, pushing the black book towards him. "They're not mine, anyway." There was the slightest hint of amusement in her voice at this. Draco smiled, knowing how satisfied she was at having broken in to her husband's private rooms.

The front of the book was completely blank. He opened it up, and saw black writing in a language he recognized as Latin. He carefully turned the pages, seeing more and more writing, until at last he found something different.

It looked like a picture of a tapestry, only the size of the page itself. Draco stared at it, wondering.

"Allow me." Narcissa offered, reaching over and pulling the book towards her. She picked up her wand and tapped the image twice with it.

At once, a duplicate copy of the image appeared on the table, the exact size and shape as the picture in the book, only real.

"We'll have to move it to the floor." Narcissa said, pointing her wand at the tiny tapestry.

"Locomotor tapestry!"

She manoeuvred it off the table and onto the ground. Draco made a face as he knelt on the ancient carpet. He did not like getting dirty.

"Engorgio!"

The tapestry immediately expanded, becoming nearly three metres in length and two metres in width. Draco gaped at the now enormous tapestry. He could see fine golden writing glinting in the murky torchlight.

"Down here, my Dragon." Narcissa said, already situated near the base of the tapestry. He moved over to kneel beside her.

She wordlessly pointed, with an elegant hand, to one name on the tapestry. Draco leaned closer, squinting.

In fine, elegant golden writing was the name Orion Black. It was not, however, connected to the name of Augustine Pursan, which Draco knew for a fact was the name of his great-great grandmother. Instead, a small golden line connected Orion to Virgia Velia.

"Virgia Velia was the full-blooded Veela Orion Black had an affair with." Narcissa said softly. "She is actually your great-great grandmother, not Augustine."

Draco gaped wordlessly. "But…father showed me a family tree!" he protested. "It clearly said Augustine and Orion were the parents of Plutos…"

"It was lying." Narcissa murmured. "As far as anyone knows, yes, Plutos was the son of Orion and Augustine. This tapestry is charmed to update itself whenever a new marriage or birth happens in the family. Same with the Malfoy family tree. It does not leave unscrupulous details such as affairs out."

Stunned, Draco allowed his eyes to follow the rest of the tree. Beneath Orion and Virgia's names was a single gold line, connecting to the name Plutos Black, which was connected to Antlia Bellanore, from which sprang two names, one of which was Corvus, Narcissa's father. This was connected to Ara Glacé, and from there came three names – Andromeda, Bellatrix, and Narcissa. Bellatrix was connected to Rudolphus Lestrange, Andromeda to Ted Tonks, and Narcissa to Lucius Malfoy. Draco came from the final pair.

He exhaled, tracing the lineage again. His true ancestry, right before his eyes…

"When I saw this, I was as stunned as you were to see the name Virgia Velia." Narcissa commented. "A little research told me who, or rather, what she was. I realised about our lineage straight away."

Draco pointed to the name Plutos. "So he, my great-grandfather, had a half-blood dominant Veela gene?"

"Correct." Narcissa nodded. She pointed to her father's name. "It skipped a generation with my father, and my uncle." She pointed to the other name coming from Plutos and Antlia, Eridane. "The gene was recessive for them."

"And then it came back again with you." Draco finished, pointing to Narcissa's name.

"Correct." Narcissa nodded once more. "Does that make more sense?"

It did, actually. "Yes." Draco murmured, scanning the names once more.

"Do you wish to see the Malfoy family tree?" Narcissa questioned him gently.

"I might as well." Draco said, slightly dazedly.

Narcissa nodded. She shrunk the tapestry and then levitated it so that it was resting on the image in the book. Two taps and the tapestry seemed to melt back into the page, until all that was left was the image.

She closed the book and set it aside, opening the green book instead. After repeating the earlier process, the Malfoy family tree was spread out on the carpet beside the table. Narcissa joined Draco at the base once more.

He had already found the correct point where the Veela genes entered the bloodline. Alistair Malfoy was connected to Carina Contise rather than Trania Femme, whom Draco had previously believed to be his great-grandmother.

"Carina was the Veela in this case." Narcissa said.

Draco nodded, eyes already following down the rest of the tree. From Alistair and Carina came Abraxas, who was connected to Aquila Vraime. From them came the name Lucius Malfoy, who was connected to Narcissa Black. Draco was below them.

"After seeing both family trees, I realised what it would mean for you." Narcissa said softly. "I always knew you were special. I just never realised how special."

"Didn't you wonder, before all this, why you were the only one of your family to have blonde hair and blue eyes?" Draco questioned. This had puzzled him since their discussion in his mother's study earlier.

"No." Narcissa shook her head. "My grandfather, Plutos, had blonde hair and blue eyes, as I told you earlier. I always just assumed I got that from him, and it had just skipped everyone else. Which it had, of course, but it was from more than just physical traits."

Draco nodded. Narcissa went through the process of shrinking and levitating the tapestry once more. Once the green book was re-completed, she picked both of the books up.

"What else does Father have here?" Draco wondered, gazing at the dusty volumes.

"I do not know, and I do not wish to find out." Narcissa answered quietly, setting off down the row to return the books to their rightful places. Once this was done, she approached Draco again.

"If you wish it, my Dragon, we can go to the family library and locate information on Veela." Narcissa said.

Draco nodded. He had a kind of desperate feeling of wanting to know more.

"Very good." Narcissa smiled. "Shall we leave?"

Together, they left the cold, dark room.

HPDM

Draco opened his bedroom door with difficulty, as his arms were filled with several books of varying size and weight, all relating to Veela. He put them on his desk and then staggered in a most un-Malfoyish way to his bed, which he collapsed on.

He was exhausted. He and his mother had been in the library for several hours, reading and discussing. Draco now knew the majority of what being a Veela entailed, as well as the details of what exactly would happen to him when he came into his inheritance.

Tiredly, Draco turned his head and eyed the clock positioned on the night-stand next to his bed. It read 11:40pm.

Draco shivered. In just twenty minutes, he would come into his inheritance.

Feeling the need for more reassurance, Draco tiredly sat up and walked over to his desk. Sitting down in the plush chair, he searched through the books until he found one that had been particularly useful. It was called 'So You're A Veela: A Guide To Being Beautiful And Having A Beneficial Life.' Despite the cheesy title, it contained information about everything Draco needed to know. Its section on the Inheritance had been particularly detailed.

He flipped through the pages, finally locating the chapter headed 'Inheritances.' He began to re-read the information it contained.

_All Veela when they come of age go through a process that is known as coming into their inheritance. This occurs on the day they turn sixteen years old. The exact sensations they will experience are unique to every Veela, although generally there are certain occurrences that are found to happen nearly every time._

_All Veela, no matter what they look prior to their inheritance, will become extremely physically attractive once the process is complete. Changes in appearance include an alteration in the shade or depth of eye colour, lengthening amount of hair, which can be accompanied by a change in the hue, a growth spurt, a general toning and strengthening of body shape, and for the full-blooded Veela, the sprouting of wings and claws, which can be receded at will._

_Veela, being some of the most sought-after creatures in the world, need magical strength and power in order to defend themselves and their mates. Thus, with the inheritance comes a boost in magical strength, power and control. The level of this boost generally depends on the power of the Veela's mate._

_The majority of Veela also receive a power called the Allure, a charm that is exclusive to Veela in its use. The more Veela blood the individual has the stronger their Allure will be. Thus, full-blooded Veela have the strongest Allure of all, whereas Veela with only a small percentage of Veela blood have relatively weak Allures. (For more information about the Allure and its use, turn to page 13.)_

_These three effects are the most common in coming into an inheritance, although there have been variations reported._

Draco shut the book and set it aside. He wondered briefly how the hell he was meant to explain all of this to his friends. He was extremely apprehensive and still felt somewhat dazed about the whole thing, however, he was starting to get used to the idea of being a half-Veela.

His friends, on the other hand, would take a lot more convincing.

He stretched and then glanced over his shoulder to his beside clock. 11:45pm.

Draco turned back to the books, selecting one at random and flipping through it, not really absorbing anything he read.

Fifteen minutes and counting.

HPDM

_Harry was dreaming again._

_He was dreaming of a world where Sirius had not died, where he didn't live with the Dursleys. Things were OK in this dream world. _

_Then, a flash of green light, and Sirius disappeared, and Harry heard that high, cold laugh he despised so much…_

As Harry slept and the storm raged outside, the bright red numbers of his alarm clock quietly flipped to 12:00.

_The dream changed…_

_Harry was running, running as fast as he could, through a forest. It was dark and the stars were out. Harry ran, not knowing where he was going or why he was running but continuing to do so anyway…_

_He arrived in a clearing, with a peaceful rock pool splashing away to the side. Beside the rock pool was a tower of bright light, shining so brightly as to blind him. Squinting, Harry stepped towards it. _

"_Hello?" he called._

_There was no response, so Harry walked closer, closer and closer until he was nearly right next to the light. He reached out to touch it, so enthralled was he in its beauty, but it disappeared, the rock pool disappeared, and he was falling, falling through darkness…_

Harry awoke with a start.

_Well, that was a new one. _He thought to himself.

HPDM

Draco arched his back as the tingles spread into his limbs. He had been lying on his bed for the last fifteen minutes, waiting desperately for midnight. Once the clock had ticked over, the warm, tingly sensation had erupted in his chest, and it had been spreading since.

It wasn't exactly painful, per se, but it wasn't altogether pleasant either. It reminded him of pins and needles, the kind you got after sitting down for a long period of time.

Draco gasped as he felt his magic join the wave, spreading and moving through the channels that only wizards have, faster and faster. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, just waiting for it to be over.

HPDM

Narcissa smiled gently as she saw the flashes of light that were coming from underneath her son's door. At midnight she had left her room to come here, to make sure everything was OK. She couldn't hear screams of pain or anything similar, and so assumed the Inheritance was going ahead without any grievous harm being done to her son.

"Sleep well, my Dragon." She murmured, turning around and setting off back down the hall for her own bedroom. She couldn't wait until morning to see the changes that were taking place in her son.

_TBC_

**AN: Yeeew! So, a bit of insight into the Inheritance, as well as a glimpse into my obsessiveness when it came to those family trees. I've seriously actually drawn up those trees, to remind myself how the entire thing works. Hope all the names didn't confuse you too much lol**

**Well, just a heads up that tomorrow I return to school after my holidays, so therefore updates will obviously slow down a bit. I'll update whenever I can though, I promise. I'm quite happy with how this story's going so far, so most likely I will be writing this when I should be doing schoolwork anyway. Heh heh heh.**

**So, thanks for reading, I hope the chapter was to your liking, and please review!**

**bleedingxheart**


	3. The Morning After

**AN: Thanks to all reviewers for the previous chapter. Here's chapter 3.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Three – The Morning After  
  
_June 5th_

Fairly early the next morning, a soft little knock sounded on Draco's bedroom door.

"Young master Draco?" Delia, Narcissa's personal house elf, squeaked timidly. "My mistress is wondering if you is ready for breakfast now."

There was an ominous silence. No response came from within the room. Delia, remembering her orders, knocked again.

"Young master Draco?" she questioned once more. "Is you alright?"

There was a long silence before Draco's voice came from the room. "Get mother for me, Delia. Please."

Delia jumped in shock. Young master Draco had never said please, ever, to any of the house elves in the Manor. To be doing so now indicated his need was beyond trying to retain any of his long-held traits.

"At once, young master!" she cried, and disappeared from the hallway outside with a soft pop.

HPDM

Narcissa picked up the fine china cup marked with the Malfoy family crest. She took a delicate sip of her tea and turned a page of the Daily Prophet. She was scanning an article just as a soft pop announced the return of Delia.

"Delia," She smiled at the little elf, "I trust he's on his way?"

"Mistress!" Delia squeaked, sounding excessively distressed. "Young master Draco is telling me to come and get you, mistress!"

"Come and get me?" Narcissa repeated, alarmed. "Whatever for?"

"I is not knowing, mistress!" Delia cried. "He is telling me to come get you so I is coming to get you!"

"Very well. Thank you for telling me." Narcissa stood and straightened the long, feather-light robes she wore. "You are dismissed for now."

"At once, mistress! Let Delia know if you need any more help!" Delia cried, and disappeared with a pop.

Narcissa performed a graceful twirl, also disappearing from the breakfast room, except with a resonating crack.

HPDM

She reappeared beside Draco's bedroom door, and knocked once, twice, three times with a pale fist. "My Dragon?" she called. "It's me, I'm here."

"Come in, mother." Her son's voice sounded quiet and pained.

She twisted the golden handle and stepped into the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She crossed over the ancient, beautiful rugs that decorated the floor, heading for the magnificent bed where her Dragon's prone form lay.

Draco was curled beneath the silver quilt, eyes closed, hair spilling over his face. Narcissa seated herself on the edge of the bed.

"Dragon?" She murmured.

He looked up, and her hands flew over her mouth.

His eyes, which had been the cool grey of rain clouds just the day before, were completely different now. Twin pools of shining, beautiful silver gazed at her, contrasting against the long blonde eyelashes that framed them.

"Draco…" she whispered, slowly lowering her hands and gazing at him in awe, "…your eyes…"

"What about them?" Draco said, panicked, and he tried to move but ceased his efforts immediately, wincing as he shrunk back against the mattress.

"Oh, my Dragon." She sighed, concern evident on her delicate features. "What happened to you?"

"The transformation seemed to be going fine." Draco said, eyes closed. "I was getting a strange tingly sensation, but I figured it was just part of the whole process."

Narcissa nodded. "That was from your Veela blood activating, and your magic levels adjusting themselves."

"Well, that's what I thought as well." Draco said. "But the magic didn't join in until later, and when it did…" he paused, wincing in memory, "…it was horrible."

Narcissa looked pale - even more so than usual. She nodded tightly, eyes bright. "How so, Dragon?"

"My magic was moving too fast." Draco recalled. "I could feel it going through its channels and everything, but it was just…too much of it, too quickly. Way too much. Everything started shaking around me and my skin became really hot…"

Narcissa froze, a suspicion arising as Draco described what had happened. "And how do you feel now?"

"I can't move very much without feeling like something is zapping me." Draco answered softly. "I can still feel my magic, though…there's so much of it…"

Narcissa nodded decisively. She stood up from the bed. "I think I have an idea as to what's happened." She told her son. "I'm uncertain, however. I need to check with Severus."

"Severus?" Draco questioned, startled. He tried to sit up but was forced back down from the pain.

"Shhh, Dragon. Stay still, and try to relax, it'll help." Narcissa soothed.

"But Severus works for the Dark Lord." Draco pointed out as he lay there, definitely not liking the fact he couldn't move. "Would it be wise to involve him?"

"Severus is a spy." Narcissa said, matter-of-factly. "He has been ever since the Dark Lord came back to power. I informed him of my intentions, and of your situation, before you returned home. He is a perfectly safe source to seek help from."

"Severus is a spy?" Draco repeated, sounding stunned. His beautiful eyes narrowed as he looked at his mother. "What else do you know that I don't?"

"Many things, Dragon." She replied, smiling. "Now, I will be back soon with Severus. Keep still. I shan't be long."

Draco raised his eyebrows slightly, to indicate he'd heard and understood. She blew a kiss to him and swept from the room.

HPDM

"27 Spinner's End!" Narcissa said clearly, throwing her handful of powder into the fireplace of her private study. The flames within rose with a loud whoosh and turned bright green. Grimacing as she always did when using the Floo system, Narcissa knelt, took a deep breath, and then stuck her head into the fire.

After the spinning sensation had stopped, she found herself looking into Severus Snape's private study.

"Severus!" she called as loudly as she could.

He appeared in the doorway almost immediately, dressed in his trademark of long, black robes. He crossed the room quickly, and knelt beside the fireplace.

"Narcissa." He greeted, looking mildly surprised to see her there. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Draco came into his inheritance last night." Narcissa explained quickly. "But there's been a problem with his magic, and I'm not entirely sure of its nature. I was hoping you could help. Are you busy?"

Snape shook his head, causing the curtains of dark, greasy hair to sway limply in front of his face. "Not at the moment, no. I'll come at once."

"Thank you." Narcissa said gratefully, and she pulled back from the fireplace and straightened up, dusting off her robes with an expression of mild distaste. She was just finishing up when the flames in the fireplace flared green again, and a figure appeared, spinning very quickly. Snape stepped over the threshold, only briefly dusting his robes off.

"Where is he?" he asked her quietly.

"In his bedroom." She answered, already beginning to walk; Snape hurried to keep up with her. "Thank you again for coming at such short notice."

"It's no problem." Snape answered, waving a dismissive hand. "He is, after all, my godson. I must do what I can to ensure his wellbeing in the absence of his father."

Narcissa smiled lightly as they began climbing a set of stairs that would lead them to Draco's rooms. Snape eyed her thoughtfully as they climbed.

"And you, how are you holding up underneath all your recent stress?" he questioned.

"Stress?" Narcissa waved the word off. "It is no stress. I shall be glad to finally be free of that excuse for a husband." She paused. "I admit I was concerned for Draco earlier, though."

"As you would be under the circumstances." Snape said quietly as they turned into the corridor that contained Draco's bedroom.

Narcissa knocked on the door. "Dragon, it's me, with Severus. May we come in?"

"Yes, mother." Came Draco's tired voice.

Narcissa opened the door, allowed Snape through, and then followed him in, closing the door behind him. They both crossed to the bed.

Draco opened his eyes. Seeing Severus there caused his cheeks to flush a dull pink; it hadn't occurred to him his godfather would be seeing him in this vulnerable state.

"Draco." Snape greeted, conjuring a chair from nowhere and sitting down beside the bed.

"Hello, Severus." Draco returned.

"Now," Snape looked to Narcissa with questioning eyes, "Exactly what has been going on?"

Narcissa smiled ruefully. "Why don't you tell Severus what you told me, Dragon?"

Draco launched into a description. Narcissa wandered over to her son's desk while he talked, glancing at the books that were scattered there. Draco had seemed to her to accustom himself well to the information they had read over together. She was proud of her son for handling himself with such dignity and aplomb even in the face of such unusual circumstances.

Narcissa walked back over to her son's bed, where Draco was finishing telling Severus what had happened.

"…and my skin became extremely hot…" Draco was saying.

Snape nodded and held up a hand. "Say no more." He said. "I think I know what has happened."

He turned to look at Narcissa. "When Veela come into their inheritance, generally, it follows certain steps. First of all, their appearance changes. This is usually barely discernable to the Veela." He glanced at Draco. "You said all you felt at first was a tingle?"

"Yes." Draco said, and Snape nodded. "That is the second step, where the blood composition re-adjusts itself as the Veela genes are activated. Thirdly, the Veela's magic channels adjust themselves to accommodate their new levels. This is nearly always harmless, as the channels are adaptable and can handle the increase in magic."

He paused, looking seriously between the two. "However, this was the stage where things didn't run quite as smoothly for Draco, and the reason for his bed-ridden state this morning."

"Why? What happened to me?" Draco asked fearfully.

"The amount of magic you gained, and the sheer power of it, was too much for your system to accommodate in such a small period of time." Snape answered. "Your magic channels essentially shut themselves down in order to slowly allow the magic in at a trickle. It's a natural defence mechanism, and nothing to be alarmed about. You need to stay still and allow your body to adjust at its own pace. When you can move again, you'll know your magic channels have healed themselves."

"That's what I suspected had happened." Narcissa said, frowning. "But why did it happen to him? What does it mean?"

"Veela experience a boost in magical abilities in order to protect their mates." Snape said. "Normally, this means the Veela only experiences a relatively small boost. Such an enormous boost in magic, for a Veela, is an indicator that their future mate possesses extreme magical ability."

"So my magic has increased so much," Draco surmised from the bed, "because my mate, whoever it is, is extremely magically powerful?"

"Essentially, yes." Snape nodded.

"That makes sense." Narcissa said. "Is there anything we can do to make the adjustment easier for Draco?"

"No. A wizard with non-intact magical channels is very vulnerable. The magic knows this. The zapping sensation Draco described that occurs when he moves comes from his magic warning him it's not ready yet. All he can do is stay where he is and wait for his magic channels to recover."

"I see." Narcissa breathed out, and smiled gratefully at Snape. "Thank you so much, Severus, for coming to help us."

"It was nothing." He said, looking slightly awkward as he glanced away from her.

"Can I have breakfast, at least?" Draco demanded. "I'm hungry."

Narcissa glanced at Snape questioningly. "Will food interfere with his healing?"

"No." Snape shook his head. "In fact, being fuelled with food will ensure Draco is physically stronger, which will most likely make the magical healing faster."

"Very good." Narcissa nodded. She cleared her throat. "Delia!"

The little house elf appeared before them at once. She sunk into a low curtsy before straightening up.

"Yes, mistress?"

"Make arrangements for breakfast for myself, Draco and our guest to be brought up here for us to eat." She told the elf.

"Of course, mistress!" Delia cried eagerly, and then hesitated, peering around Narcissa in an attempt to see the bed. "Is young master Draco being OK?" she questioned tentatively.

"Yes, Delia." Narcissa smiled. "He will be fine, no need to worry. Off you go."

"At once, mistress!" Delia said, and she disappeared with a soft pop.

HPDM

Draco lay on his back beneath the quilt, staring at the canopy above his head. It was just past 2 o' clock in the afternoon. Draco had been lying in his bed for about 14 hours straight, and he was sick of it.

The three of them had eaten breakfast together – his mother levitating food into his mouth, something which had caused him deep embarrassment – and then Severus and Narcissa had left him to discuss important matters, most likely relating to the Dark Lord and Lucius. That had been around two or so hours ago.

About once every half an hour he tried to move, only to be met with that sharp zap sensation that rendered him onto his back.

In the hours he'd had since Severus and Narcissa had left, he'd had time to think. He had been trying to think of someone who could possibly be powerful enough that warranted him to be bedridden for 14 hours to recover from getting a power boost powerful enough to protect them. The only people he knew who were truly, properly magically powerful were Dumbledore and Voldemort. He of course had completely dismissed either of the pair, as the idea of either of them being his mate was simply disgusting.

He had also properly realised something else. Something was wrong, with his…_heart. _It felt strange, as though a huge chunk of it was missing, and there was a gnawing feeling that was prompting him to do… something, but he wasn't sure exactly what. It was frustrating, he wanted badly to get up and move around and at least do _something, _but he couldn't.

Speaking of which, it was time to try moving again. Slowly, cautiously, he began to raise his left arm. It was ten centimetres above the mattress…it was twenty…it was thirty! Hardly daring to believe it, Draco raised his right arm as well. Finding no responding zap reprimanding him, he slowly raised his whole body to a sitting position.

He moved his arms faster, pleased that they seemed to be moving more freely. He pushed aside the quilt and stood up, his legs shaking slightly from not being used in many hours, but otherwise, perfectly able to move.

He froze as he looked down to the Persian rugs he knew so well. They definitely seemed further away, somehow.

Looking up slowly, Draco spotted his reflection in the full length, golden-framed mirror on the opposite wall. His jaw dropped, and he walked towards it, as though in a dream.

He was considerably taller than he had been before. Previous to his birthday, he had been a reasonable height of 5 foot 8. Now, though, he had shot up to 5 foot 11. This was not the only thing that had changed. His hair had always been ear-length, neat, and white blonde. It was now chin-length, messy, and seemed to have obtained a golden sheen that gave him the appearance of having a halo over his head.

_For Merlin's sake. _He groaned inwardly, turning his head to examine his hair from every angle. _I look like a bloody priss._

The light caught his eyes, and he froze again. He had always had his father's eyes. The cool, grey shade had always reminded him of stone, which surmised his father's personality perfectly – cold, impenetrable. But these, his eyes now, were completely different. He could understand why his mother had been so alarmed earlier. They were not that dull grey, but bright, beautiful silver. They sparkled and shone in the light. They conveyed warmth.

Perhaps the most noticeable change of all, however, was his body. It was summer, and Draco was wearing only loose silk pyjama pants, so the change was extremely evident. While not exactly extremely skinny, previously Draco had been slim. Now, though, his body had bulked up, with definition of lean muscles. And his skin…Draco had always had pale, flawless skin, a trait that came from both his parents. If it was possible, his skin now seemed even paler – alabaster, even – and Draco had to admit, the effects of the changes was breathtaking.

"Draco?" A knock sounded from his bedroom door, which opened as his mother stepped in. She stopped short and gasped at the sight of her son.

"Oh, my Dragon." She breathed, eyes shining with joy. "You're okay. And you look beautiful."

"I do, don't I?" Draco remarked, turning back to admire his reflection. He was nothing if not vain, whether he was a Veela or not.

Narcissa chuckled quietly as she crossed the room to stand beside her son. "You must try to practise modesty, my Dragon." She remarked. "Arrogance is not an attractive trait in a wizard, no matter how attractive their outside may be."

"But I'm not just a wizard, Mother." He reminded her. "I'm a half-veela."

"You are." She smiled. "A half-veela whose birthday it happens to be. Bon anniversaire, my Dragon. I'm sorry that it started the way it did. Why don't you get dressed, and come down and open your present?" She suggested.

"I will, mother." He promised. "I just want to check some things first."

"Of course. Don't be too long." She cautioned, and then quietly left the room.

Draco dressed quickly once she was gone, in well-tailored black pants and a loose shirt made of a soft grey silky material. This being done, he went back to the mirror and appraised himself. The clothes clung to his body, showing off its new state extremely well. He eyed his hair critically, still uncertain of how he felt about its new long, messy status, although he supposed it was a change for the better.

He walked over to his desk and re-located 'So You're A Veela: A Guide To Being Beautiful And Having A Beneficial Life.' He sat down and flipped it open, checking the Inheritance chapter and performing a mental checklist in his head.

_Magical boost? Check._

_Extremely attractive appearance? Check. _

_Allure?_

_Hmmm. _Draco pondered, frowning slightly as he re-read the section about receiving the power called the Allure. That was the one thing he wasn't sure about as of yet. He turned to chapter 13 of the book, which was dedicated to information about the Allure.

_The Allure is a charm that is exclusive to Veela in use – that is, no ordinary wizard has the capability of using it. It is best described as a 'wave' that the Veela sends out which causes those near to the Veela to lose their minds temporarily and try to impress the Veela in any way they can. _

_If an Allure is strong enough, its effect on ordinary wizards is comparable to that of the Imperius Curse, in that the Veela can get the wizard in question to do anything they want. For this reason, Veela and the Allure itself are seen as 'grey' creatures – not entirely safe, but not entirely dark either. Wizarding children are often raised being warned about the effects of the Allure. An ample amount of skill at Occlumency is the most effective way known for counteracting the use of an Allure by a Veela._

_The only wizard for whom the Allure will not properly work for any Veela is their mate. Traditionally, Veela can become extremely dangerous when their mate or other loved ones are threatened. The mate is the only one who can soothe the Veela in this state, and thus they need the immunity against the Allure in case the Veela tries to use it to get their own way. _

_Prior to bonding, however, the use of the Allure does affect the mate when in the same proximity as the Veela, but not in the same way as other wizards. Instead, mates have described feeling an overwhelming attraction to the Veela, and a strange desire to protect the Veela. They do not, however, lose their minds, or try to impress the Veela._

_Veela will subconsciously use the Allure upon seeing their mate for the first time after coming into their Inheritance, in an attempt to attract them. This release of the Allure can be up to ten times stronger than when the Veela consciously uses the Allure, so caution is needed._

_To use the Allure, the Veela must simply picture their magic gathering near their heart and then envision releasing it. The older that the Veela gets the more experienced they will be at controlling the power of the Allure. Veela that have come into their inheritance usually have very little control over the Allure, but over time this will change._

Draco stopped reading and set the book aside. He sat quietly, trying to do as the book said and picture his magic gathering near his heart. He jumped a little, startled, when he felt the magic rushing through the channels straight towards his chest. He imagined it being released in an outwards wave. The air around him felt distinctly warmer, but nothing else seemed to have happened.

Pleased nonetheless, Draco stood up and headed for the door. Perhaps this whole situation wouldn't be that bad after all, exempting the gnawing feeling in his chest.

HPDM

Harry went for a run that afternoon. He had gotten back to sleep after the strange dream the night before fairly quickly, and hadn't dreamt anything else for the rest of the night. He had spent the early portion of the day cooking and doing chores for the Dursleys. After he'd made them lunch, he'd left the house before any of them could think of another chore for him to complete, and now he was running.

Having the slender frame that he did, running was not difficult for him. There were no deposits of extra fat anywhere on his body that could slow down his stride or wreck his breathing. He ran up and down the streets, past parks and houses, past children who all got out of the way when they saw him coming. Everyone in this neighbourhood knew him as 'that Potter boy'; the dangerous delinquent from St Brutus's, and so they avoided him like the plague. This suited him well, however, and didn't bother him in the slightest.

He ran and ran, enjoying how the exercise emptied his mind and challenged his body. If he couldn't use his Firebolt, he could at least do this.

He returned to Number 4 Privet Drive only to find Uncle Vernon red-faced and furious that he had been doing anything other than jobs for them, and so was forced to go into the backyard and weed Aunt Petunia's precious gardens.

He did so, pulling at the stubborn plants as hard as he could, thinking about Sirius and running and the dream he'd had last night. It left him with a slightly unsettled feeling whenever he remembered the beautiful light by the rock pool. He could still picture it. He didn't know what the dream was about, however.

_Maybe it's a dream sent from Voldemort. _He panicked briefly before dismissing the idea. If Voldemort was going to send him any visions or nightmares he would make sure they were of death and destruction and murder, not of mysterious but beautiful lights beside a rock pool.

He pulled out the last weed, wondering if he'd have the same dream tonight, before Uncle Vernon's bellowed "BOY!" from within the house interrupted his train of thought. He stood and went inside, preparing himself for whatever ridiculous task his uncle had dreamed up this time.

HPDM

Draco arrived in the sitting room, which was a large, elegant room on the second floor of Malfoy Manor. It was filled with many antique lounges and like most rooms in the manor was furnished with a large, ornate fireplace along one wall. Narcissa was waiting for him on one of the lounges, the pale robes she wore contrasting against the royal blue of the lounge she sat on. She smiled at him as he crossed the room and sat down with her on the lounge.

"Happy birthday, my Dragon." She said, producing a small silver box from her robes and handing it to him.

"Thank you, Mother." He said, taking the box and carefully lifting the lid. Sitting inside on scarlet coloured velvet was a ring. He recognized it as the Malfoy family ring, previously warn by his father.

He looked at his mother, shocked. "The Malfoy family ring?"

"Yes." She said softly. "They took it off him and sent it to me shortly after his arrest. He has disgraced the name of Malfoy, and thus is no longer worthy of wearing the ring. Ordinarily it would not go to you until you turn seventeen, but because Veela come of age at sixteen, it can legally be passed on to you now. Only the heir to the Malfoy line can wear this ring. It is a very serious matter, my Dragon."

Draco eyed the ring silently. It was silver, with real diamonds and a phrase saying 'Mauvais foi' engraved on its inside.

"Put it on." She encouraged him. "It is yours now."

Hesitantly, Draco did so. He felt it magically change to fit his finger perfectly.

"Before summer's end," she said to him, "I will be divorced from Lucius Malfoy. I will be Narcissa Black once more. But you, my son, will always be Draco Malfoy, no matter what Lucius does. You are the heir to the family name now. As such, you have duties to fulfil. It is your choice what you will do with these duties and how you will handle them. Will you accept this responsibility?"

"I will, Mother." He said gravely, sensing how important this was to her.

"Good choice, my Dragon." She smiled at him. She clapped her delicate hands together. "Well! That shall come later. For today, it is your birthday, and such matters should not grace our thoughts. What would you say to having your friends over for a birthday dinner?"

Draco's brilliant silver eyes lit up before they darkened once more. "My friends don't know about me yet." He said quietly.

Narcissa studied him intently. "No, they don't." she agreed. "Do you wish to tell them?"

"I…" Draco began hesitantly. He swallowed. "I do." He said quietly. "I'm just concerned about how they will react."

"If they are your friends, they will accept you." Narcissa said.

"They're Slytherins, Mother." Draco pointed out. "Slytherins aren't renowned for being the most accepting people. I mean for Merlin's sake, they're not Gryffindors!"

"Nonetheless, they are still your friends." Narcissa reminded him gently. "And if I recall correctly, Slytherins have a tendency to stick together, as well as for ambition. Friendship with a Veela is beneficial, especially considering you received the power boost you did. If they are in any way sane, they will know better than to turn you away."

"I suppose so." Draco said doubtfully.

"So, shall I have the elves send out the invitations?" she asked him.

Draco was quiet, before his silver eyes hardened in resolve. "Yes, send them out."

Narcissa nodded. "As you wish, Dragon."

She stood, and he did as well. They left the sitting room together.

"Perhaps you should go have a shower and get yourself ready." She suggested to him as they walked through the vast halls and corridors of the Manor. "You can hardly convince them to stay by your side when you're unwashed." Her blue eyes shone playfully.

He chuckled slightly. "Anyone would think you're losing your subtlety, Mother." He commented. "Very well, I will."

They reached a crossroads, one corridor leading to the elves quarters, one leading to the staircase to the third floor. Narcissa hugged him tightly. He returned the gesture awkwardly, feeling at odds with himself.

"Everything will turn out fine." She murmured, pulling away and looking at him seriously.

"I know." He said, trying to smile. She blew him a kiss and then turned with a whirl of her pale robes, striding smoothly away. Draco turned as well and headed for the stairs, determinedly ignoring the gnawing feeling in his chest and hoping with everything he had his friends would accept him.

_TBC_

**AN: w00p! Another chapter finished. I very skilfully managed to write this over the weekend before school started. So, I hope you enjoyed it! Another question, what do you think of Snape having a tad of a crush on Narcissa? Reciprocated or not? Yay or nay? Opinions always appreciated.**

**See you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	4. Revealing and Resolutions

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed Chapter 3. **

**A few people questioned why Draco didn't associate magical power with Harry. I wanted to answer that here, so everyone knew.**

**If you go through the books, Harry doesn't actually come across as all that magically powerful. I mean, his spell work in class is never exceptional or anything, so it follows that his fellow students (including Draco) wouldn't think of his magical power as being on level with Dumbledore or Voldemort. I have a theory as to why his magic doesn't show itself, which will become evident later. But for now, as far as anyone knows, Harry is just like everyone else in terms of magical power.**

**Anywho, now that's explained, here's chapter 4.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter 4 – Revealing and Resolutions 

_June 5th – 5:00pm_

Draco turned off the shower and fastened a soft white towel around his waist. He grabbed another to use on his hair and opened the door leading back into his bedroom. He padded across the rugs, drying himself in the process, and collapsed into his desk chair. He began drying his legs, distractedly glancing at the opened introductory chapter of his favourite source of Veela information on the desk as he did so.

_So, you're a Veela. If you, the reader, feel negative in any way towards your heritage, you shouldn't. Being a Veela is a wonderful thing. Who wouldn't want to be beautiful, powerful and ensured a lifetime with your soul mate?_

_This book covers everything a Veela needs to know in order to benefit from their heritage. _

Beneath this was an index.

Chapter One: Introduction and IndexChapter Two: History of Veela  
Chapter Three: Inheritances  
Chapter Four: How To Handle Your Newfound Appearance  
Chapter Five-Six: A Guide To Veela and Magical Power  
Chapter Seven: What The Hell Do I Tell My Friends?  
Chapter Eight: Mates – A Brief Introduction  
Chapter Nine: Finding Your Mate  
Chapter Ten: Wooing Your Mate  
Chapter Eleven: Fighting Off Competition  
Chapter Twelve: All About The Allure  
Chapter Thirteen: Oh My God, They Don't Like Me For Some Reason!  
Chapter Fourteen: The Bonding Process

And so on.

Draco scanned the index briefly before turning the book to chapter eight, hoping it would, in fact, help him figure out what the hell he was meant to tell his friends. He dried himself off absently as he read.

_When a Veela comes into their Inheritance, it is natural for them to sometimes feel confused and lost. In any other situation, turning to their friends seems the answer, but this is no ordinary situation._

_The best approach that is recommended for telling your friends about the changes happening to you is simply stating the facts – when you found out, how you found out, what this will mean for them, etc. It is good to stress to them that your friendships should not be affected in a negative way. Answer any questions they have honestly and truthfully, using examples from books if you have them._

_The absolute worst thing to do is use your Allure as a last resort method. If your friends are uncomfortable about your abilities, forcing same onto them will not have the positive results needed._

Draco sighed as he picked up the second towel and began towelling his hair. He probably could've figured out that using the Allure on his friends wouldn't help anything. Stupid book.

He stood and picked up his wand, which was also resting on the desk, and walked over to his mirror. He pointed it at his hair.

"Sechio!"

Instantly, his hair became completely dry. With another lazy flick, it styled itself so it was smoother. He examined it critically. He really did look like a priss now, the way his hair shone so beautifully around his face. But he supposed it was an improvement, of sorts, from before.

Draco span on his foot and hurried over to his wardrobe, which was nearly the height and width of one entire wall of the bedroom, a product from being both an only child and the heir to an extremely prestigious bloodline which meant large amounts of fabulous clothes was a requirement.

Eventually he had managed to select long black pants and a Slytherin-green dress shirt. He appraised his appearance once more in the mirror, and liked what he saw. He looked gorgeous, naturally, but he also looked controlled and at ease, which was good because he certainly didn't feel it.

His friends were to arrive at 5:30pm for drinks and appetisers, with dinner being served at 6:30pm. He had only roughly another 15 minutes or so before they arrived.

A soft pop sounded, and Draco turned to find Delia the house elf bowing low before him.

"Excusing me, young master." The little elf said nervously, eyes averted from him. "But my mistress is needing you downstairs to make opinions on the decorations."

Draco sighed. It was beginning.

"Very well. Tell Mother I'm on my way."

"At once, young master!" Delia disappeared with another soft pop, and Draco strode out of his room, heading for downstairs, appearing every inch the young, confident wizard. In reality, on the inside, he was the extremely nervous Veela.

HPDM

"Draco, darling!" The happy cry of Pansy Parkinson echoed through the Grand Sitting Room. Draco stood as the girl ran to him and flew into his arms. He hugged her, feeling awkward.

"Happy birthday!" she said, hugging him back briefly before stepping away. Her jaw suddenly dropped as she got a full look at Draco.

"Draco, you're gorgeous!" she declared, immediately beginning to circle him like a vulture around a piece of meat, examining him. "Your hair, it's so…messy!"

"I know." Draco said, wincing inwardly. "I thought a change was in order."

"Yes, yes, of course." Pansy beamed. "So, are the others here yet?"

"They should be along any moment now." Draco replied, sitting down with her, just as Narcissa entered the room.

"Pansy, so nice to see you again." She smiled warmly at the girl.

Pansy's wide blue eyes flicked to Draco in a manner that clearly suggested _Since when is your Mother friendly to anybody?,_ but nonetheless returned the smile cautiously.

"And you, Mrs Malfoy." She said politely.

Narcissa smiled once more before turning to her son. "Draco, if you wish it I shall not stay with you here while you and your friends get reacquainted," she gave him a meaningful look, "but I shall dine with you later on this evening, is that alright?"

"Yes, Mother." Draco answered.

"Very well." She smiled at the pair of them. "I shall see you both later on."

"Goodbye, Mother." Draco said, and Narcissa swept from the room.

Pansy looked at him, eyes filled with questions. "Draco, what in the name of Merlin is going on with your mother?"

"It's a long story." Draco sighed. "I have…things, to tell you all. Not just about Mother either."

"Oh." Pansy said, just as the door on the opposite side of the room opened. Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott walked in, both dressed in expensive looking pants and dress shirts. After spotting Draco and Pansy on the lounges, they came over to join them.

"Evening everybody." Blaise said, sitting with Theo on the lounge opposite the other pair.

"Hello Blaise, Theo." Pansy waved to them. Draco inclined his head as the door opened again, and this time Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe entered, also dressed in expensive pants and dress shirts. They navigated through the lounges and tables and statues to join the others on the third lounge that surrounded a large, ornate fireplace.

"Hey guys." Crabbe said, sitting down.

"Evening." The others replied.

"So, happy birthday Dra…Merlin, what happened to you?" Theo exclaimed, eyed wide as he pointed at Draco. Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle all made noises of surprise and shock as well as they too noticed the new and improved appearance of the Malfoy heir.

Draco's pale cheeks flushed a soft pink, but he raised his chin proudly. He had been raised to be proud of who he was and where he came from, and this was no different.

The others were stunned. "But your eyes, why do your eyes look silver all of a sudden?" Blaise was saying. "We saw you only a few days ago, and they were plain grey then!"

"And your hair," Goyle said, "It looks like…well, not like your father's hair."

Draco held up a hand. "Guys, calm down." He implored. "I can explain everything."

His friends quietened down at once, all eyes on him. Draco swallowed impulsively and licked his dry lips. "I invited you all here because it's my birthday, of course, but I wanted to use the opportunity to tell you all about a few things." Draco silently congratulated himself for keeping his voice as calm as he had.

"About what?" Pansy demanded.

"Well, about my parents, and about me." Draco said.

"What about your parents?" Crabbe asked.

Draco took a deep breath. "My Mother is going to be divorced from my Father by summer's end. She will be Narcissa Black once more."

There were a few quiet gasps of shock; Pansy's hands had flown over her mouth.

"Divorcing him?" Blaise echoed, sounding stunned. "But how? Why?"

"Yesterday, she had a serious conversation with me." Draco recalled. "She apologized for never being there when I was growing up, and explained it was because when I was five years old, Father forbade her from influencing me. When she tried to protest, he abused her."

Pansy gasped again. The others looked suitably stunned. Abuse amongst spouses in pure-blooded society was not uncommon, but it was not looked upon favourably, as it was seen as allowing the emotions to get the better of you. The head of the family was meant to set a good example to their children and to wizarding society and control themselves, and never hit their spouse.

"So that's why she acted the way she did all those years." Blaise noted quietly. "She was afraid of your father."

Draco nodded seriously. "Yes. But he's in Azkaban, and because of that, it has allowed her to be herself again, for the first time in years. She's free of him physically, so she wants to be free of him legally."

"That makes sense." Theo mused.

"It's not just that, though." Draco said, slightly hesitantly. "She's divorcing him…and she's switching sides as well."

Complete silence met this statement. Draco's friends all stared at him, and he gazed solemnly back.

"You mean she's…changing sides? Going to Dumbledore?" Goyle said, sounding amazed.

"Yes." Draco said quietly. "Once the divorce is final she will be going to Dumbledore and declaring herself as a supporter of the Light." He paused, and then added, "I will be following her. I have no intention of joining the ranks of the Death Eaters, ever. I will support the Light with my mother."

He took a deep breath. "I understand if with each of your family's own political stances and expectations, you can no longer be around me, or no longer want to be around me. If that's the case, you are free to leave, right now. I'm not going to stop you."

He sat back and waited. The silence stretched on. His friends appeared to be frozen.

Pansy was the first to speak. "If you have the courage to stand against the Dark Lord, Draco, then I will too." She declared, raising her chin proudly.

"I will too." Blaise said suddenly.

"Us as well." Crabbe said, indicating himself and Goyle. "The Dark Lord may have some things right, but murder is not the way to go about accomplishing things."

Theo's dark eyes seemed almost black with their worry. "It will be difficult," he stated, "for me to go against my parents' wishes and ideals. But…I agree. Slytherins should not bow to anyone."

Draco's eyes shone with happiness as he looked around at his friends. "Thank you so much." He said quietly. "That means more than you know to me."

Blaise waved a hand. "No problem. Slytherins stick together."

"I'm glad you have that mentality." Draco said, and bit his lip, preparing himself. "I've got something else to tell you."

Theo raised a dark eyebrow. "Something more besides you switching over to the Light?"

"Yes." Draco said. "A lot bigger than that." He took a deep, calming breath and let it out again, trying to regain the cool composure he was renowned for. "We're all pureblooded wizards here, right?"

"Yep." Goyle affirmed.

"Wrong." Draco said quietly. As his friends all performed visible double takes, he hastened to explain. "Look, you've all noticed I look a bit different to what I did the last time I saw you all. Correct?"

They all nodded numbly.

"Different, how?" he asked them. "Think about it."

The boys looked a little less inclined to bother thinking about it, instead wanting the answers, but Pansy obligingly tilted her head to the side and studied him.

"You're a lot more attractive than before." She surmised, blue eyes squinting slightly as she examined him. "Like, a lot more. Your hair is longer and messier and it's changed colour slightly, but that's a good thing. And your eyes have gone beyond grey into silver, which is kind of scary but really attractive…" she trailed off, her face blank. In the next moment, a look of pure amazement, incredulity and shock, all rolled into one, flashed over her face, and her hands went to cover her mouth again.

"Oh Merlin." She breathed. "Darling…are you saying what I think you are?"

Draco had known Pansy all his life. Most of his earliest memories involved her in some way. Out of all of his friends and acquaintances at Slytherin house, she'd always been the one who understood him the best. Now was no different. He could tell by looking at her she'd figured it out.

"Yes." He said quietly, and turned to the others. "When my mother had that conversation with me, she told me something else, about my bloodline."

He absently straightened his shirt out. "My maternal great-great grandfather, Orion Black, had an affair with a Veela." He explained. "All of my ancestry on my mother's side of the family stems directly from a full-blooded Veela."

There was another silence. Draco hurried on with the air of one getting the bad news out of the way as quickly as possible, "Logically, I know, that would mean I don't have very much Veela blood, but Mother told me that it's not the only source of Veela blood I have."

He absently ran a hand through his hair. "My great-grandfather, Alistair Malfoy, also had an affair with a Veela. Both of my parents have a dominant quarter-blooded Veela gene. I'm a half-blooded Veela."

Pansy nodded slightly. The others stared blankly at Draco for a moment.

"Reactions would be wonderful at this point." Draco said sarcastically.

Theo blinked, shaking his head. "A Veela? I guess that does explain your appearance and everything." He frowned. "Does that mean you've come into your inheritance?"

"Yes." Draco answered. "I received the change in appearance, and the Allure, and a very, very large magic boost that rendered me to my bed. Mother was worried about me for a while, but she got Severus to come over, and he said it was just because my mate, whomever they are, is extremely magically powerful."

"Magically powerful?" Blaise echoed. "I wonder who it is."

"No idea." Draco said dismissively. "I'm sure I'll find out eventually, when term goes back. I know I've asked a lot of all of you already, but…" he grimaced, hating the concept, "…I need to ask you all again to stand by me. Please. Regardless of my genes."

"I will." Pansy declared at once, with Blaise and Theo not far behind. Crabbe and Goyle followed suit.

Draco remembered his mother telling him earlier that afternoon that everything would be fine, and marvelled at how her pronouncement had come true.

"Thank you." He said, feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps they weren't the ideal image of friends, not like the other students at Hogwarts, like the Gryffindors. But they had shown unfaltering loyalty to the beneficial friendship they had with each other, and in Draco's eyes, that was just as good.

"So if your mate is supposedly so magically powerful they put you into a magical coma," Goyle said, "and you received a magic boost as well, have you actually tested your powers?"

"No." Draco said, surprised as this occurred to him. Somehow, with the not-moving thing, the reason behind it hadn't really sunk in.

"Test it now!" Pansy said, clapping her hands. "What's a spell you were never able to do before?"

"Erm…" Draco thought. "I was never all that good at Vanishing spells, although I assume that was only because of McGonagall's substandard teaching." He finished with a half-hearted sneer.

"Try it now." Theo encouraged. He pulled one of the flowers from its position in the vase in front of them and put it in front of Draco.

Draco pulled out his wand and pointed it at the flower.

"Evanesco!"

The flower vanished instantly. His friends applauded.

"You never would have been able to do that before." Crabbe chuckled, causing Draco to scowl at him.

"Merlin, this is going to be awesome, you being a Veela." Blaise said, inspired. "You can use the Allure on people we don't like and get them to act like foolish, lust-driven morons!"

The others grinned evilly at this. Draco grinned as well. "As fun as that sounds, Blaise, I don't think I'm allowed to use the Allure for those kinds of purposes. Only in life-threatening situations." At Blaise's crestfallen expression, he hastened to add, "But I suppose maybe we can stretch the rules a little." The others grinned again as Draco straightened up.

"Well, I brought you all here to tell you all the truth, but you're also here to help me celebrate my birthday. What's say we start up the drinks and appetisers before dinner?"

His friends cheered as Draco snapped his fingers and summoned one of the kitchen elves. Once the order had been given and the elf had disappeared, Draco allowed himself a moment to just watch his friends as they continued to plot and cackle.

As soppy and Muggle as it sounded, he felt like the luckiest person in the world.

HPDM

_He arrived in a clearing, with a peaceful rock pool splashing away to the side. Beside the rock pool was a tower of bright light, shining so brightly as to blind him. Squinting, Harry stepped towards it. _

"_Hello?" he called._

_There was no response, so Harry walked closer, closer and closer until he was nearly right next to the light. He reached out to touch it, so enthralled was he in its beauty, but it disappeared, the rock pool disappeared, and he was falling, falling through darkness…_

Harry's eyes flew open, and he listened to the sound of his own hammering heart and unsteady breathing. The room was dark but for the glowing red numbers of his alarm clock, which read shortly past 1 in the morning.

"Not again." He sighed irritably, sitting up in the tiny bed and feeling around for his glasses. This was the second night in a row his dreams about Sirius had been interrupted by the dream about the rock pool and the beautiful tower of light. He sincerely hoped it would not turn into an occurrence similar to what had happened to him last year, with dreams about corridors and locked doors. He had enough recurring dreams as it was.

Glasses being secured, he leaned over and switched on the old lamp that rested on a bedside table along with the alarm clock. Instantly, a faint golden glow emitted from the lamp, spreading into the corners of the room.

Harry wearily got up out of bed. On an impulse he knelt on the floor, reaching underneath the bed. Fingers closing around what he sought, he sat on the edge of the bed and cradled it carefully in his lap.

The leather-bound photo album Hagrid had given him back in first year was still the same. Harry hadn't looked at it in a few years. He flipped through the pages, past his parents' smiling faces, until he found the photo he wanted to see.

There was Lily and James Potter on their wedding day, arm and arm, beaming up from the photo. His mother looked beautiful, with her long red hair spilling over her shoulders, contrasting so well with the pale material of her wedding gown. His father was standing tall beside his bride, black hair messy as always but with a huge grin that seemed nearly set to split apart his face from happiness.

Harry allowed himself a moment to look at them, focusing on the familiar faces that he didn't really actually know at all. He looked to the side of the pair. There was Sirius, as he had been all those years ago, before the murder of his best friend. Handsome and laughing. Harry studied his face as well, feeling semi-detached from himself. He'd lost his parents as a child. He'd lost his other parent figure only a few weeks ago.

But that didn't mean he should lose himself.

He shut the photo album, tucking it securely back underneath the bed. He sat back upright, staring unseeingly at the nearby wall, watching the gentle shadows in the light from the lamp dancing across it.

So here he was, fifteen years old and with more tragedies and hardships faced in his life than most people would face in their entire lifetime. He could mope. He could sit around for the rest of the summer, mourning what he'd lost. But somehow, doing that had lost its appeal. Seeing his parents, and Sirius, young and happy as they were, had made him realise. Life was meant to be lived.

Harry swung his legs back onto the bed and leant over to switch off the lamp. The room was cast into complete darkness once more and Harry lay down, head on the pillow, eyes on the ceiling.

_No more weakness. No more. _He promised himself. _They wanted better for me than that._

He lay awake for a while, thinking of photo albums and faces and bright lights beside rock pools, eventually falling asleep so soundly that the following morning Aunt Petunia had to actually come into the room to rouse him.

_TBC_

**AN: Huzzah! Draco's friends accepted him! It might take a little bit more on Draco's behalf later on when we find out who his mate is though ;)**

**Next chapter will be skipped ahead a few weeks/months, so that we're not tediously going day by day with this whole thing. NOT to September 1st, though, so that's clear.**

**I seem to be managing an update every weekend, so I'll try to stick to that, but if schoolwork should increase to insane amounts, obviously that's not going to be possible.**

**Well! That's basically all there is to say, so hope you enjoyed the chapter, please review, and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	5. The Burrow and Business

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 4. I have 101 reviews already and we're only 5 chapters in, which is absolutely amazing, so thanks so much to everyone for that. People don't realise how much feedback helps.**

**Sorry I didn't update last weekend, I had a sudden influx of homework. However, chapter 5's all ready to go, so enjoy it!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Five – The Burrow and Business

_July 30th – 4:30pm_

Harry knelt beside the flowerbed and tugged hard on the final, stubborn weed that resided there. It came out easily. He threw it onto the pile of weeds he'd gathered and then hurriedly took them to the compost bin. After throwing them in and closing the lid, he looked around the Dursley's backyard. Everything was spotless. Aunt Petunia could hardly complain.

He opened the back door and walked into the similarly spotless kitchen, which he had cleaned earlier in the day. Ron had written to him a few days ago, telling him that he would pick Harry up from the Dursleys the day before Harry's birthday, at approximately 5 o' clock. The Dursleys, naturally, had decided to set him the longest list of tasks possible as a requisite for him to complete in order to leave, thinking he would never finish them in time.

Quite frankly, Harry could easily have kicked their ass – his weeks of running every day and difficult, laborious work had meant he was a lot physically stronger than at the start of the summer – but he had ended up doing the list anyway, with the idea that it would give him something to do while he waited for July 30th.

Doing the list had also proven an ample method of forgetting, at least during the day, about the dream that he now had nightly and had been having since near the start of summer, about a beautiful light near the rock pool. It was frustrating; every night he'd nearly touch the light and every night it would disappear. So, he threw himself into his tasks, pushing the dream away as much as he could and waiting for July 30th. And now, here it was, half an hour before he would leave this place, and he'd finished everything.

Uncle Vernon was still at work, and wouldn't be returning until after his friends had arrived. Dudley was in the park smoking with his friends, his regular summertime habit. It was only Aunt Petunia and himself left in the house.

Harry located Aunt Petunia in the lounge room, where she was seated on her favourite chair near the mantelpiece, reading one of the nasty gossip magazines she loved so much. Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence as he entered the room.

She jumped slightly in her seat at the disruption, glaring at him reprovingly as she made a huge show of putting the magazine down.

"Yes, what is it?" she snapped at him.

Harry allowed himself a moment to study her. She was so unlike her sister, Harry's mother. It seemed incredible one sibling could be so ordinary looking, and another so beautiful. Things were not helped with the ugly look on his aunt's face either.

"I just thought I should tell you that I've finished all the chores you and Uncle Vernon set me, Aunt Petunia." Harry said politely, ignoring the repulsive sight of her horsy teeth.

She looked at him suspiciously. "How could you possibly have finished all those tasks, boy?" she said. "Nobody could have completed them in the time you did." She gave a sudden gasp. "You used _it, _didn't you?"

"Used what, Aunt Petunia?" Harry questioned blandly, keeping his face blank.

"Your m…your m…" it was like the woman was physically incapable of saying the simple word.

Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes with great difficulty. "My _magic, _do you mean?" he supplied.

She gasped again, pointing a bony finger at him. "Vernon has made it clear to you many times boy that you are not to mention _that word _in this house!" she hissed.

Harry sighed. Merlin, could she be more predictable? "Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry." He said, bored. "What will the neighbours think, etc. I know."

"Don't take that tone with me, boy!" she shrieked, rising from her chair.

Harry honestly wanted to slap her, the silly woman. This old song and dance was so tiresome. "I'm sorry Aunt Petunia, it will never happen again." He said quietly. "But if you don't believe me, I suggest checking all the things I had to do yourself. I'll be upstairs."

She glared at him. "I will, boy, and if I find a single thing wrong you're not going anywhere!" she threatened, and then stomped past him out into the kitchen.

Harry shrugged inwardly, remembering the last time the Weasleys had come to get him from Privet Drive, in fourth year. He had a suspicion they would be just as calm and uncompromising with their task this time around as they had been then, regardless of whatever Aunt Petunia said.

He took the stairs two at a time, glad he was about to finally get out of this place again.

HPDM

With great difficulty Harry had managed to manoeuvre his trunk, broomstick and Hedwig's cage downstairs. They were now sitting proudly next to the fireplace in the sitting room, while Harry absently paced back and forth in front of same, glancing at the clock every now and then as he waited.

Aunt Petunia walked in. "Well boy, I couldn't find anything wrong with the garden, but…OH MY GOD, YOU IDIOT, WHAT IF THE NEIGHBOURS SEE!" she shrieked suddenly. Harry winced and touched his poor ears reflexively as she moved to each of the large windows and frantically closed their curtains. The late afternoon sun was gradually blocked out, darkening the room considerably.

She tugged closed the last set of curtains and then rounded on him. "If you must have those…_things _with you…" she glanced at his belongings with mingled fear and disgust, "…you are to keep them out of sight if you're standing right in the middle of the sitting room where the neighbours can see them." She finished in a hiss.

Harry distractedly glanced at the clock again. 4:59pm. One minute left. "Sorry, Aunt Petunia."

"Mark my words boy, I'll be telling Vernon about this!" she said threateningly, shaking her bony finger at him. Harry ignored her completely, eyes on the clock, counting down the seconds.

_30 seconds…_

"And you just see if we let you come back next summer, boy!"

_15 seconds…_

"Irresponsible, ungrateful brat…"

_5 seconds…_

"Whatever you say, Aunt Petunia." Harry said, grinning as the fireplace was suddenly filled with a tall, bright green flame, in which a figure was spinning very quickly. Petunia gave a little scream of fear and surprise and promptly moved so she was protected by one of the lounges. The figure within the fireplace slowed down, until the tall figure of Ron Weasley stepped out of the Dursleys fireplace. He dusted himself off and grinned at Harry.

"Alright there, mate?"

"Yep." Harry grinned back, laughing inwardly at the part horrified, part terrified expression that was present on Aunt Petunia's face as she stood foolishly behind the lounge.

The green flames flared once more. Another figure could be seen spinning within them, and a moment later a jubilant Mr Weasley was dusting off his threadbare robes and shaking Harry's hand.

"Good to see you again, Harry." He said, grinning.

Harry grinned back. "And you, Mr Weasley."

"Right!" Mr Weasley looked eagerly around the room, his eyes shining with barely suppressed enthusiasm until they lighted upon Aunt Petunia.

"Oh, hello!" he said, cheerfully waving. "I do believe we've met before? Arthur Weasley." He walked over and stuck out his hand. "Pleasure to meet you again."

Aunt Petunia stared at his hand as though it was diseased and backed up a few steps. "P…P…Petunia Dursley." She gasped finally, sounding as though the words had taken tremendous amounts of effort to utter.

"So, er, got your things then, Harry?" Ron questioned, gesturing to the pile situated next to the fireplace.

"Isn't anyone else coming?" Harry said, gesturing also towards the fireplace. Mr Weasley, having sensed he was not likely to procure a handshake from Harry's aunt, walked back over to rejoin them. "I'm afraid not, Harry. They're all waiting for you back home, of course. I felt that this time we didn't need as many people to come get you."

He clapped his hands. "Well! If we're all ready, we might as well get going." He glanced to his youngest son. "Ron, if you'll take the cage with you…?"

"'Course." Ron said easily, stooping and picking up Hedwig in her cage. She hooted dolefully, clearly not liking the idea of fireplace travel.

"You'll be OK, Hedwig." Harry said as reassuredly as he could, but still couldn't help the slight twist of guilt he experienced when Hedwig looked at him in a manner that very obviously meant she would not be quick to forgive him for this.

"See ya." Ron said slightly awkwardly in the direction of Aunt Petunia, who gave no indication that she had heard him, instead determinedly staring around at all of the closed curtains in turn.

Ron tossed a handful of glittering powder into the fireplace, and then stepped into the resulting flame, holding Hedwig's cage carefully. "The Burrow!" he declared, and with a whoosh of flame, disappeared from sight.

"You go next, Harry." Mr Weasley said brightly. "I'll bring the rest of your things after you – wouldn't want your Firebolt getting snapped along the way, would you?"

"Not particularly, no." Harry glanced at his aunt, who was still determinedly pretending there was no one in the room. "I'll see you, I guess."

Aunt Petunia merely fixed her gaze on a nearby vase and looked at it as though it was the most fascinating item ever created. Harry, unconcerned, tossed a handful of powder into the fireplace, preparing to leave. Mr Weasley was staring at Aunt Petunia. "Harry said goodbye to you." He said loudly, moving into her line of sight. "Aren't you going to say goodbye in return?"

Harry sighed inwardly. Like two summers before, Mr Weasley seemed to find it incomprehensible that someone could be so rude to a blood relative.

"Mr Weasley." Harry interrupted. Mr Weasley swivelled around to look questioningly at him. "I honestly don't care either way. Drop it, please."

Mr Weasley hesitated, wavering for a moment, but seeing the look on Harry's face, gave in. "Alright." He agreed. "Off you go." He did, however, shoot Aunt Petunia another look of mingled curiosity, amazement and distaste.

"The Burrow!" Harry said clearly, and stepped into the whoosh of green flame. He was being sucked down a giant plughole, spinning faster and faster, the roar in his ears deafening, until with a thump he landed onto old and fraying carpet.

He was adjusting his glasses when the Ron's jubilant voice sounded through the room.

"Long time no see, mate!" he joked, offering a hand to Harry, who gratefully took it and managed to stand up properly. Harry glanced around. They were in the Weasleys' cozy, inviting kitchen. Hedwig was sitting in her cage on the kitchen table. She hooted at him, her expression still clearly telling him she hadn't enjoyed her experience with Floo powder.

"Harry's here, Mum!" Ron called, and a few seconds later Molly Weasley came bustling into the kitchen, neatly swerving to avoid the corner of the kitchen table in her efforts to get to Harry.

"Harry, dear, how lovely to see you." She beamed, finally reaching him and pulling him into a tight hug. He hugged her back, genuinely happy to see her again. "And you, Mrs Weasley." He replied, pulling away. He noticed she seemed to look even more frail and skinny than she had before. She was losing dangerous amounts of weight.

"You've grown." She declared, clasping her hands on either side of his face and studying him. "At least a few inches, I'd say you'll be needing new robes, but no matter, those are easily bought." She surveyed the rest of him. "You're still far too skinny, of course, but much better than usual. You'll have to wait awhile for dinner, I'm afraid. We're waiting for Bill and Fleur to get back."

"Bill and Fleur?" Harry looked to Ron questioningly, but it was Mrs Weasley who answered him.

"Yes, dear, they're engaged." She explained. "They've been doing a few wedding-related things in at London, we're not expecting them back for another few hours."

"Engaged? Wow." Harry, having always liked Bill, was suitably happy for the eldest Weasley brother. "So, where's everybody else?"

"Fred and George are at their shop." Ron put in. "They live in a flat above it, but the Order's made sure it's well protected."

"Yes, I expect we'll see them when we go get all of your school supplies later on." Mrs Weasley said. "I'm absolutely terrified for them, of course, and it would be better if they were pursuing more worthwhile avenues, but as long as they're happy, I suppose…" she trailed off.

"Charlie's still in Romania, but Ginny should be here somewhere." Ron said.

At that moment, the fireplace lit up with a brilliant green flame, and next second Mr Weasley emerged from it, carrying Harry's trunk and Firebolt, which he set down and then quickly dusted off his robes.

"Hello, dear." Mrs Weasley greeted, kissing him briefly on the cheek and then walking over to the cupboards and beginning to pull out pots and pans. "You seemed to have taken awhile."

"Yes, well, I stayed back to have a quick word to Harry's aunt." Mr Weasley said conversationally.

This caught Harry's attention. "What about?" he asked quickly.

"Oh, you know, this and that." Said Mr Weasley airily, pushing Harry's trunk and broomstick towards him. "Why don't you and Ron take your things upstairs, hm?"

Harry knew Mr Weasley was just trying to change the subject, and although he wanted to know what he'd said to Aunt Petunia, he dutifully picked up his Firebolt and grabbed one end of his trunk. Ron, who had picked up Hedwig's cage, grabbed the other end, and together they worked to manoeuvre the whole lot upstairs.

They went down the narrow passageway that lead from the kitchen to the uneven staircase, which they navigated carefully as they went upwards, all the way up five floors until they reached Ron's room.

The walls were still covered with posters, all depicting Quidditch players in bright orange robes flying. The players stopped and waved upon their entrance. Harry and Ron dumped the trunk at the foot of a single mattress that had been set up on the floor. Harry's Firebolt joined the broom Ron had received the year before for becoming prefect, and Hedwig and her cage joined Pigwidgeon, who was twittering happily in his cage on the desk, fluttering madly in delight at the sight of the other owl.

"Pig, shut up already." Ron said distractedly, flopping down on the bed. Harry sat down at the rickety desk chair, and reached to stroke Hedwig's head. She ducked his hand, eyeing him reproachfully. He rolled his eyes at her and turned back to the room at large.

"Bill's got Fred and George's old room." Ron said. "Fleur's sharing with Ginny, which she's not too happy about."

"Why not?" Harry knew Fleur, while disturbingly beautiful, and was at least not entirely unpleasant to be around.

"Doesn't like her." Ron answered simply. "Although I have to admit, when Fleur's around Bill, it is kind of sickening."

"I can imagine." Harry cleared his throat. "So, heard from Hermione?"

On cue, Ron turned faintly red. Harry chuckled inwardly. "She wrote last week." Ron said, keeping his voice as level as he could. "I wrote to her telling her we were going to be fetching you from the Dursleys today. She said she's going to be in Paris with her parents until mid-August, but hopefully after that she'll be allowed to come stay with us."

"Hopefully." Harry grinned. Ron and Hermione's will-they-won't-they relationship was a constant source of amusement in his life. He decided to change the subject. "Heard anything about what's going on with the Order?"

"Not much." Ron shrugged. "We're not at headquarters anymore, so everyone hasn't been around as much. I mean…" he looked suddenly awkward, "…now that, you know, Sirius isn't around anymore, Dumbledore had his will checked out, made sure everything's in order. Technically, the house and its contents belong to you, but apparently he's hinted in his will he's leaving it in control of the Order until you come of age next year, so things are running as usual over there."

Harry ignored the twinge he felt at Sirius's name. "Mine?" he repeated, frowning. "Shouldn't the house pass to the next in the Black line?"

Ron shrugged. "Logically, yeah, but there's apparently a way of getting around that law, and Sirius used it. So it's held in trust for you, kind of, until you turn seventeen, and then you can choose to do whatever you want with it."

Ron cleared his throat. "He also apparently left you a lot of money." He said off-handedly. "Dad was meant to talk to you about that tonight, so I thought I'd give you a heads up."

"I don't need any more money." Harry said immediately. "I've got enough, Mum and Dad left me enough. I don't need it."

Ron looked pained at the concept of 'not needing money,' but nodded all the same. "Well, see what Dad says anyway."

Harry nodded. "Right."

"Boys! Ginny!" Mrs Weasley's amazingly loud voice echoed up to them from several floors below. "Get down here, I've got things for you to do for dinner!"

Harry and Ron glanced at each other and shrugged before leaving Ron's bedroom and heading downstairs to help with dinner.

HPDM

_July 30th, Malfoy Manor – 8:00pm_

It had been nearly two months since Draco Malfoy had come into his inheritance, and on this evening he could be found sitting at his desk in his affluent bedroom, re-reading 'So You're A Veela: A Guide To Being Beautiful And Having A Beneficial Life' for the eighth time, particularly the chapter containing information about mates.

_Veela were originally thought to be descendants of Aphrodite, Greek goddess of love and beauty. Being such, both of these aspects are essential to their existence, love in particular. Millennia ago, the unearthly beauty of the first Veela caused the jealous wizards to curse them with the need to have a mate, their other half, an individual who would be the only way to properly enjoy their lives, and so it has been ever since._

_Your mate is someone who matches you mind, body and soul: an individual who it was determined at their time of birth to have the potential to make you the happiest. This has caused problems in the past – the characteristics possessed by humans as a baby are the rawest material in making up who you are, and experiences in life can change this. In some cases, Veela's mates have been disturbed, nasty individuals who were completely incompatible with their Veela, as their experiences had changed those raw parts of their personality. This is rare, however._

_Technically Veela can live without their mate, should their mate reject them. However, such an existence is not to be wished on anyone, as the result usually finds the Veela completely and totally emotionally and psychologically shattered for the remainder of their lives, if left unchecked. _

'_The Madness' is a term referred to the state a Veela will enter when their mate has rejected them. It is a process, gradual enough that a Veela can escape it should their mate change their minds within two years of the rejection. Should this not happen, The Madness will take hold, and it is unlikely the Veela will ever manage to live their lives to full term. There is a potion that has been developed in an attempt to lengthen a rejected Veela's life – however, it only amounts for an extra five years, which under the circumstances is usually not enough._

_The rest of this book is designed to help you in your attempts to find, woo and keep your mate._

Draco sighed, closing the book with a soft thud. The more times he read about 'The Madness', the more he feared the idea of it. The book wasn't exactly specific in what being 'emotionally and psychologically shattered' truly entailed, but it didn't sound all that pretty.

His mother was downstairs, meeting with her wizarding lawyer about her imminent divorce from Lucius. Draco still had mixed feelings about the whole affair, but he knew his mother needed this. If everything went according to her plans, the divorce would be finalised before the end of August.

Draco had spent the time since his birthday party with his friends learning about all the duties and responsibilities that came with being the Malfoy heir. His mother had sat down with him in mid-June and talked to him about the importance of publicizing the family name through appropriate involvement in various channels. She'd handed him the records of all the businesses and organisations the Malfoys currently had a hand in. She had then left him to filter those that he wished to keep.

Draco had ended up continuing his family's investments in the businesses and organisations that were, if not legal, at least not completely morally deficient. He gladly decided to terminate all association with those that were morally deficient – an example included a near 500,000 Galleon business that specialised in the selling and trading of house elves under inhumane conditions that usually meant premature death for the creatures. It was a no brainer that things such as this would not be beneficial to the family's reputation.

The task had taken him several days, wherein he met representatives of all of these businesses and organisations and made all the appropriate arrangements. He discussed it all with his mother once he had finished, and Narcissa had agreed to his suggestion that evidence of Lucius' less savoury dealings should be used to keep the man in Azkaban for as long as possible.

The rest of Draco's time had been devoted towards the overseeing and maintenance of the remaining businesses, and the never-ending quest to find out more about being a Veela. It was also getting a lot more difficult to ignore the gnawing feeling he'd been experiencing in his chest since coming into his inheritance, although according to the books he'd read, this was just a side effect that would disappear once he'd bonded with his mate.

He'd visited with his friends a few more times as well. It was nice to talk about reasonably inane things with them after spending his days dealing with serious matters like finance and such. His friends had neglected to tell their parents about anything Draco had told them on his birthday, and so none of them knew that Narcissa's divorce from her husband was imminent, or even that the Malfoys were leaving the Dark side of the upcoming war. Narcissa had already expressed to Draco that should any of his friends' parents react negatively towards the revelation, they would be welcome at Malfoy Manor, and Draco had passed the same message on to his friends.

Draco absently rubbed his chest in a vain attempt at easing the gnawing feeling. He'd been forced to grow up very quickly this summer, but it seemed to have been for the best - at least it would be if the damned gnawing would cease.

A knock sounded on the door, and his mother stepped into the room. "Draco." She greeted warmly. "I have finished business with my lawyers, for today in any case. I hope you have not forgotten we have dinner with Lorelle and Blaise in half an hour." She paused. "And Lorelle's latest husband, of course."

"No, of course not." Draco lied, hastily getting to his feet and walking over to his wardrobe. He had in fact forgotten, but only because she had told him about it more than two days ago and since then he'd been dealing with a pressing concern in one of the businesses, which had quite driven the knowledge out of his mind.

She smiled as he began the process of selecting attire to wear. "It is understandable, my Dragon, to forget things sometimes. You have had a lot to deal with this summer, and I am proud that you have managed to do so. I think absent-mindedness can be excused, in your case."

"I can't afford to forget things." Draco said, his voice slightly muffled from the shoe section of his walk-in wardrobe.

"You're learning." She reminded him as he emerged from the wardrobe, apparently having found the shoes he was after. "Well, in any case, be ready within half an hour. Do you remember what my plan was in regards to Lorelle?"

Now that she'd reminded him, he did. "Yes; after dinner you're going to try and figure out where she, and her new husband, stand in regards to the Dark Lord." Draco recalled, now absently eyeing the long rows of dress shirts that hung in his wardrobe.

"Correct." She nodded. "So I'll need you and Blaise out of the way by then."

"It will be done, Mother." He assured her over his shoulder, finally settling upon a deep, wine coloured shirt to wear that set off his pale skin dramatically.

"Don't be late." She cautioned him. "I shall see you downstairs in half an hour, then."

He waved a hand towards her in acknowledgement and she departed, leaving him in front of his wardrobe, debating over whether charcoal grey or black pants would look best with the shirt.

HPDM

_July 30th, 9:30pm – The Burrow_

"Check."

Harry glanced up, startled out of his contemplation of the fireplace. He looked to the small table where the chessboard was set up. Ron had just moved his bishop three spaces, with the result being that Harry's king was now in trouble.

Harry scanned the pieces and shifted a pawn forwards to protect his king. He stretched and looked around the room now. Mr and Mrs Weasley and Bill were sitting in one corner, deep in discussion. Fleur and Ginny sat nearby; Fleur was speaking in an overloud voice to Ginny, whose very visible look of annoyance was deepening with every minute.

"In ze end, I chose gold, because of course pale peenk would clash most 'orribly with your hair…" Fleur was saying. Ginny made eye contact with Harry over Fleur's shoulder and made a fake-vomiting motion; Harry laughed and made a sympathetic face back. Ron's earlier pronouncements had proven true – Fleur, as stunningly beautiful as she was, could in fact be very annoying when allowed to keep talking about certain subjects; her and Bill's wedding was one of them.

They'd eaten dinner several hours before, and had spent the hours since then in the lounge room. Harry had already been updated that Ginny was no longer seeing the Ravenclaw boy she'd had a brief fling with towards the end of term, and now Harry felt warm and content in the tiny room, more at home here than Privet Drive could ever hope to be.

Over in the corner, Mr and Mrs Weasley and Bill all stood up, having evidently finished their conversation. Bill and Mrs Weasley joined Fleur and Ginny, while Mr Weasley came over to where Harry and Ron were sitting.

"Harry, ah, could I have a quick word with you for a minute in the kitchen?" Mr Weasley asked him.

Ron gave Harry a meaningful look. Harry nodded. "Sure." He agreed, standing up and following Mr Weasley down the hall and into the kitchen.

"Have a seat." Mr Weasley invited him, taking a seat himself. Harry did likewise.

"You musn't be alarmed, first of all." Mr Weasley smiled kindly at him. "You're not in any sort of trouble."

Harry nodded.

"In the light of…recent events…" Mr Weasley's voice shook only slightly, "…the Order has found out a few things that it's fallen to me to pass on to you."

"What kind of things?" Harry said, watching Mr Weasley try to reign in his emotions.

"Well, we managed to find Sirius's will, Harry." Mr Weasley explained. "And he's left Headquarters to you, so it belongs to you, but because you're not of age he's stated in the will that it's to be held in trust by the Order until you turn seventeen."

Harry nodded again.

"I'm also to tell you about Kreacher."

"What about him?" Harry said quickly; the name of the house elf caused evoked a mixture of rage and disgust in his stomach, remembering the role the elf had played in the events a few months ago.

"Logically he's meant to pass on to the next Black family member." Mr Weasley rubbed the back of his neck. "As was the house, actually. But Sirius figured out a way around that, and because the house passes to you and Kreacher is legally bound to the house, you're now his legal owner."

Harry's mouth fell open in outrage: the idea of owning the creature that had contributed so actively to his godfather's death was horrible. "I don't want him." He said immediately.

"We thought you wouldn't." Mr Weasley said kindly. "So we took the liberty to comb through the will, and we found a technicality which means that for now, Kreacher can be considered one of the properties of the house that Sirius left you which the Order can keep in trust for you."

"So…you guys can look after him for me?" Harry said hopefully.

"Yes, in a sense. We can give him orders and he has to obey them – at least until you turn seventeen. But he's still your elf, and you can order him as well."

"So he's going to stay in the house?" Harry did not like the idea of the elf living in Sirius's house.

"Well, I was going to ask you." Mr Weasley began. "Having him at Headquarters is detrimental – he might be able to escape and leak information, it's a big risk. Dumbledore suggested we send him to work in the kitchens at Hogwarts, so I'm to ask you what you want, because he's your elf."

"Yeah…yeah, send him there." Harry said, relieved. "That would be better."

"Jolly good." Mr Weasley nodded. "The last matter was that in addition to the house and Kreacher, Sirius also left you his share of the Black family fortune, which is quite considerable considering the relationship he had with his parents."

"I don't want it." Harry said, just as he had to Ron that afternoon. "I've got enough money, I don't need any more."

"Well, you'll have to accept it for the time being." Mr Weasley pointed out.

"But can't…can't I just give you and Mrs Weasley some?" Harry said desperately: there was no kinder people than Ron's parents and family, and as they had served as Harry's family from the age of eleven, sharing his money with them seemed only logical. But Mr Weasley shook his head.

"No, no, Harry, we couldn't let you do that." Mr Weasley said. "It's extremely kind of you to offer, but we can't accept it."

"Why not? It's my money, and that's what I want to do with it." Harry persisted.

"Thank you again Harry, but the final answer is no." Mr Weasley said firmly. He stood from the table, and Harry followed suit.

"That's all I had to tell you." He said.

Harry nodded. "Thank you…and also, why did you stay behind and talk to my Aunt Petunia today? What did you tell her?"

Mr Weasley smiled grimly. "I told her that she has some nerve, behaving the way she does towards you, and that a real family is meant to be about love and caring, not ignorance and neglect, and she would be best served remembering that."

Harry blinked. "You didn't have to…"

"I did." Mr Weasley interrupted. "She needed to realise, and you do as well, that a real family looks out for each other." He grasped Harry's shoulder and squeezed gently. "And you'll always be a part of ours." He said gently. With a departing smile, Mr Weasley headed off down the hallway, leaving Harry in the kitchen, feeling more touched and more like he belonged than he ever had before.

_TBC_

**AN: Whoa, long chapter. Sorry again for the delay, hope you liked it, and that the length made up for it. A lot more Harry POV, coz I think that's been lacking in the first four chapters.**

**So, thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	6. OWL Results

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 5! Here's chapter 6.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Six – OWL Results

_August 20th – The Burrow, 10:00am_

Harry awoke slowly this particular morning. He blinked blearily at the ceiling, which was one gigantic, bright orange blur without his glasses. He turned his head and squinted in the direction of Ron's bed, which was also bright orange, and rumpled, but definitely empty.

He pulled back the simple cotton sheets he slept under and stood up, before beginning to prepare himself for the day. He changed out of his pyjamas and into jeans and a t-shirt. He attempted to neaten his hair in the age-spotted mirror in the corner, to no avail. He fed Hedwig an owl treat before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

Ron and Ginny were there, sitting at the table and eating a breakfast of bacon and eggs. Mrs Weasley was positioned at the stove top, manning another two frypans where more bacon and eggs were sizzling cheerfully.

"Oh good, Harry dear, you're up." Mrs Weasley said, glancing over her shoulder and smiling at him as he walked in. "Have a seat, this lot shouldn't be too far off being ready."

Harry did so, exchanging greetings with Ron and Ginny. Ron was shovelling down his food eagerly and had his mouth full, but Ginny was capable of normal speech, at least. She smiled at him. "Have a good sleep, Harry?" she asked.

Harry recalled briefly the all-too-familiar images of his dream with the rock pool and the light, which he had dreamt yet again last night, and which he had also awoken from abruptly.

"Fine thanks, Ginny." He said as nonchalantly as he could, accepting the plate of bacon and eggs Mrs Weasley had just handed to him. He was beginning to eat when an ordinary brown post owl fluttered in through the kitchen window. Attached to its leg was an envelope addressed to both Harry and Ron.

Ron, being suitably occupied with his food, gestured for Harry to open the envelope. Inside was a piece of parchment, on which was written a letter from Hermione.

_Dear Ron and Harry, _

_Hello to you both and I hope you've been having a wonderful summer. I have – I hadn't been to Paris before, and it's so beautiful and so steeped in history, especially magical history. We arrived home a few days ago and I've been busy unpacking so I haven't had time to write either of you until now. Anyway, Mum and Dad said I can stay at the Burrow until the end of summer, so I'll be there at about midday tomorrow, travelling by Knight Bus. I'll see both of you then!_

_Love, Hermione_

The letter was dated 19th August. Harry read the letter out loud, and Mrs Weasley gave a little gasp.

"Midday tomorrow? That means midday today! Oh, we'll have to shift around the sleeping arrangements, I suppose, if Hermione's going to be sleeping here until the end of the holidays…"

Mrs Weasley continued ranting, already on the way out of the kitchen. Ron took the letter from Harry and re-read it silently for himself.

When he finished, he looked up at Harry. "Magical history?" he said, rolling his eyes. "I bet you anything we're going to be getting an earful about that from her." But there was a sudden shine in his blue eyes, and a grin on his lips that kept trying to let itself be seen.

Harry exchanged half-exasperated, half-amused looks with Ginny as Ron went to pick up his fork, picked up his knife instead and sat stabbing at his eggs with it for a good 10 seconds before apparently realising his error.

"And this is before she even gets here." Harry muttered to Ginny out of the corner of his mouth. Ginny snickered as Ron glanced up, frowning distractedly.

"Did you say something, Harry?" he asked.

"Nah, mate, don't worry about it." Harry said hastily.

Mrs Weasley came marching back into the kitchen, a steely glint in her dark eyes. "When you lot have finished breakfast," she said rather irritably, "could you kindly come upstairs and help me figure all this out?"

She marched out again, leaving Ron, Harry and Ginny to hurriedly finish off their breakfasts for heading upstairs to prepare for Hermione's arrival.

HPDM

_12:05pm – still The Burrow_

Ron paced back and forth in front of the front door, absently biting at his nails as he did so. Ginny and Harry were sprawled unconcernedly on a lounge in the front room, watching the redhead in amusement.

"She's five minutes late." Ron said worriedly.

Harry shrugged. "I'm sure she's fine, you know the Knight Bus isn't always entirely reliable in the order it drops off its passengers."

"Yeah, Ron, why are you so worried?" Ginny asked, smirking.

"I'm just concerned for her wellbeing in these uncertain times." Ron retorted hotly. Harry and Ginny exchanged smirks, and Ron, ignoring them, continued. "Do you reckon if it gets to quarter past we'll tell Mum?" he asked, but he had barely spoken the words before a loud screech sounded from the front yard of the house.

Seconds later, Hermione could be seen, holding Crookshanks' carrier and dragging her trunk behind her across the yard.

"Happy now, Ron?" Ginny questioned, grinning, but Ron was already out the door and down the front steps.

"Alright there, Hermione?" he said loudly, striding forwards in a confident manner, unfortunately so quickly he ended up stumbling slightly over his large feet and nearly fell over. He looked up, cheeks aflame.

Hermione smiled at him, shifting Crookshanks' carrier in her arms. "Yes, Ron, I'm fine, although this trunk is rather heavy." She said, tugging on her trunk's handle to illustrate her point.

"I'll help you with it." Ron declared immediately, stepping forwards and securing the other end of the trunk, and together the pair began to move towards the door.

Harry and Ginny watched all this out of the window beside the door. As Ron and Hermione walked together across the yard, navigating through the chickens that were scattered throughout, Ginny turned to Harry and nudged him.

"Anyone would think they're married already, wouldn't they?" she commented. Harry grinned as the pair outside walked up the stairs and towards the door.

"Afternoon, Hermione." He greeted as they emerged from the door.

"Hello Harry, Ginny." She smiled at them both, her eyes lingering for a moment on Harry, concern evident in her brown eyes. Harry looked away, uncomfortable, as Ron shut the front door and bellowed, "Mum! Hermione's here!"

Seconds later Mrs Weasley came bustling in, smiling warmly. "Hello, Hermione dear." She greeted. "It's a tight squeeze, but I've cleared out space in Charlie's old room for you to sleep, on the fourth floor. Why don't you carry your things up there, and then we'll see about lunch."

She bustled off towards the kitchen while the other four headed for the stairs and climbed up one, two, three, four flights until they reached the fourth floor, on which was located a door that bore a faded, chipped plaque that had 'Charlie's Room' engraved on it.

It was dusty inside the room, and there was a distinct scent to the air that suggested the room hadn't been entered in a long time. However, Mrs Weasley had opened the curtains and window along one room, so that the hot August sunshine spilled in and the warm air poured in through the window.

A single bed was situated along another wall. Hermione put Crookshanks down on this, and she and Ron situated her trunk at the foot of the bed. They all silently found their seats and sat down; Ron was beside Hermione on the bed, something that he looked rather pleased about.

"So Hermione," Ginny began, "how was Paris?"

"Oh, c'est belle!" Hermione declared. "Like I said in my letter, I learnt so much, the wizards of Paris have been involved in so many things…"

She rattled on for a while, with Ginny listening attentively and Ron only pretending he was. Eventually she petered out, and a silence fell over the group.

"So…er…Harry." She addressed him, sounding hesitant. He raised an eyebrow at her as she seemingly struggled with herself. "Er…how are…things?"

Knowing exactly what she was hinting at, Harry nipped the issue in the bud, not even bothering to dance around it any further. "I miss him like crazy, of course." He said quietly. "But life has to go on, you know? He wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity, that's not the right way to live your life."

"No." Hermione agreed, her eyes bright. "But you know if you ever do need to talk to anybody, Harry, we're all here for you, right?"

"Yeah, I know." He said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable as he remembered the other major occurrence from the previous May that had changed his life. The prophecy Dumbledore had told him about involving himself and Voldemort still weighed heavily on his mind. As far as everyone else knew, the prophecy had been smashed at the Department of Mysteries. He promised himself then and there that first opportunity he got he would tell Ron and Hermione the truth.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione!" Mrs Weasley's voice echoed up from downstairs. There was a slight quiver present in it; clearly, something exciting was happening. "Your OWL results have just arrived!"

The trio didn't even look at each other before they all shot out the door and thundered down the stairs, with Ginny trailing along in their wake. They burst as one into the kitchen, where three identical envelopes were resting on the table; outside, three of the Hogwarts school owls could be seen flying away from the Burrow.

Each of the envelopes was addressed to either Harry, Ron, or Hermione. Silently the trio stepped forwards and took their respective envelopes. There was silence in the kitchen as they each opened the envelopes.

There were two sheets of parchment within the envelopes. The first was the usual reminder that term started September 1st, as well as the new book list. The second contained their OWL results. Harry quickly scanned over his.

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

_Pass Grades:  
__Oustanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)_

_Fail Grades:  
__Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)_

_HARRY JAMES POTTER HAS ACHIEVED:_

_Astronomy: A  
Care of Magical Creatures: E  
Charms: E  
Defence Against The Dark Arts: O  
Divination: P  
Herbology: E  
History of Magic: D  
Potions: E  
Transfiguration: E_

Harry scanned through the list several times, barely even registering the information in front of him. He shook himself and re-read the grades again. They were good results – naturally he never would have passed History of Magic, considering he did pass out halfway through the exam, and he had always known his Divination exam hadn't gone that well. However, he had achieved E's in nearly all of his other subjects, and even managed to get an O in Defence Against The Dark Arts.

"How'd you go?" Ron broke the silence with his question to Harry. Harry handed his results over and took Ron's. Their results were much the same, except Ron had not achieved any O's and he had gotten a P grade for History of Magic.

"Well, Ron?" Mrs Weasley asked tentatively. Harry passed her Ron's results and took his own back. Mrs Weasley scanned the parchment and then broke out into a happy smile.

"Seven OWLs altogether Ron, that's absolutely wonderful!" she praised her youngest son, seizing him into a tight hug.

"Hermione?" Harry questioned somewhat concernedly; Hermione was standing completely still, eyes glued onto her parchment.

"Mum…gerroff." Ron struggled free and strode over to Hermione, taking her results from her and looking at the sheet.

"All O's except for an E in Defence Against The Dark Arts." He informed the room at large, and then looked exasperatedly at Hermione. "You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"

Harry grinned as Mrs Weasley clapped her hands together. "Well!" she declared, "I suppose if you've got your booklists, we really can't put off going to Diagon Alley to get your things for too long, can we? I'd rather we wait until Arthur wasn't working, naturally, but he's been so busy since the promotion…"

Harry had been informed shortly after his arrival at The Burrow the previous month that Mr Weasley had been given a promotion, as the head of a new office called the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Objects. As he was finally in a wizarding house, Harry had also learnt updates on situations in the wizarding world, such as the replacement of Fudge by a wizard called Rufus Scrimgeour as Minister for Magic, the murder of Auror Emmeline Vance as well as Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

It had also quickly become apparent that Percy, the Weasleys' third son, had not apologised nor made any other attempt to reconcile himself with his family. Nobody really mentioned his name anymore, especially around Mrs Weasley, as according to Ron this caused his mother to practically burst into tears on the spot.

"Can we go today?" Ginny spoke up eagerly now. "Please, Mum, you haven't let us go see Fred and George's shop yet, and we might as well now we have the booklists."

"Well…" Mrs Weasley wavered for a moment. "Yes, yes, alright, but we'll go by Ministry car, and I expect we'll need extra security…"

"Why?" Ron asked, confused. "What are the odds of You-Know-Who being at Diagon Alley?"

"Harry's been made one of the top priorities for security." Mrs Weasley answered.

"What?" Harry protested, just as Ron said, "Yeah, but still, it's Diagon Alley, surely nothing that bad could happen!"

"And Florean Fortescue just disappeared of his own accord, did he?" Mrs Weasley snapped. "And Ollivander just decided to abandon his shop? I'll remind you now, Ronald Weasley, that in these times we must take nothing for granted!"

"Alright, alright, I get your point." Ron muttered.

"Good." Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. "You lot had better go get ready, and I'll let Bill and Fleur know where we've gone in case they get back and wonder where we are." she said, already beginning to rummage in some cupboard drawers for parchment and ink.

The others began to file out of the kitchen and Harry absently picked up his envelope when something small and brightly coloured fell out of it; a bright red Quaffle badge emblazoned with the golden word, 'Captain.'

Harry, who hadn't even bothered to read the other sheet of parchment they'd all received, dove for his and hurriedly scanned the letter. Indeed, after the reminder of the date of the start of term was the information that he'd been made Quidditch captain for Gryffindor.

"What's that, Harry?" Hermione questioned curiously, glancing behind her and seeing Harry standing there holding the little red thing. Harry held it up.

"I've been made Quidditch captain." He said.

Hermione gasped as Ron and Ginny beamed. "Oh, that's wonderful Harry, that means you have equal status with the prefects and everything!" Hermione said excitedly. "You can even use the special bathroom as well!"

"Well done, mate." Ron congratulated him.

"Thanks." Harry grinned back. "Well…guess we better go get ready to leave then."

The four of them trooped out of the kitchen and headed upstairs to do just that.

HPDM

_August 20th – Malfoy Manor, 12:30pm_

Draco gave a little sigh and re-adjusted his legs underneath him as he gazed out of his bedroom window. He was sitting on the considerably broad windowsill, looking out of the grounds and just allowing himself to zone out and enjoy the hot summer sunshine.

He had been extremely busy for the last few weeks with all of the businesses and organisations. It hadn't been until yesterday, really, that all of them had settled down and began to run smoothly, which allowed him today to be not thinking about the businesses and such and just spending time with himself once more.

Draco thudded his head lightly against the wall he leant against, partly out of annoyance and partly out of frustration. The gnawing feeling remained, as always, in his stomach, and after enduring it all summer he was getting thoroughly sick of it. It acted up at random times, with the result that he was left with the constant need to do _something, _although what that something entailed exactly he wasn't sure.

The sight of a distant object moving slowly towards him out of the sky interrupted his musings. Draco squinted against the glare of the sun in an effort to determine what it was. Within a minute it had come close enough that the flapping of its wings become visibile; it was an owl.

The owl, which was a Hogwarts school owl, fluttered neatly to a halt beside him on the window. It held out its scaly leg pointedly; a thick envelope was attached to it.

Draco untied the envelope from the leg and opened it carefully, pulling out the contents. The owl hooted once and took off with a soft flutter of its wings. Draco put the contents of the envelope in front of him and looked at each in turn.

First was the letter reminding him when term started, as well as the booklists and the information that he'd been made Quidditch captain. It followed that the second item was a small badge of a quaffle (which, disconcertingly, was green) with the word 'Captain' engraved upon it. The third item, Draco discovered with a jolt of nervousness, was a sheet of parchment containing his OWL results. Knowing very well how important the grades in front of him were, Draco read through them carefully.

_ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS_

_Pass Grades:  
__Oustanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)_

_Fail Grades:  
__Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)_

_DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY HAS ACHIEVED:_

_Ancient Runes: O  
Astronomy: O  
Care of Magical Creatures: E  
Charms: A  
Defence Against The Dark Arts: E  
Herbology: O  
History of Magic: O  
Potions: O  
Transfiguration: E_

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, head falling back to rest against the wall. It was alright; he hadn't failed anything, although he knew his mother would reprimand him for his Charms grade, even though the only reason he'd smashed that glass he'd been levitating during the practical exam was because of Potter.

Draco scowled angrily at the memory, and vowed to explain the incident to his mother; surely she would understand.

_Stupid Potter, made me nearly fail Charms. _He thought angrily, getting to his feet and gathering the objects before sweeping out of his bedroom to find his mother.

HPDM

Narcissa could be found in her study, where she was diligently writing what seemed to be the longest letter in the history of the world; he could see she had already used quite a few feet of parchment. She glanced up when he entered, and smiled upon seeing who it was.

"My Dragon." She greeted warmly, conjuring a chair for him on the other side of the desk. "I trust everything is well?"

"Yes, Mother." Draco answered, seating himself gracefully in the chair and holding out his things. "I've just received an envelope from Hogwarts."

Narcissa nodded delicately and put the fine quill she was writing with into its inkpot before accepting the items and beginning to look at each in turn. When she had read down to the bottom of his letter and looked at his badge, she glanced up at him with a smile.

"Quidditch captain and prefect to boot, Draco." She remarked. "That is wonderful news."

"It is, thank you Mother." He returned as she picked up his OWL results and scanned over them.

She set them down again a few moments later and regarded her son carefully. "They are excellent results, Dragon, and I am very proud of you." She said quietly. "I feel I have to ask, however, if there was a particular catalyst that led to your Charms grade? I know normally you are reasonably proficient in that subject."

Draco winced inwardly, and opened his mouth quickly. "It was Potter, Mother." He spat the name as though he found it distasteful. "During our practical examination he distracted me while I was in the middle of a charm; I failed that particular charm and couldn't concentrate properly on what I was doing for the rest of my examination."

Narcissa raised a pale eyebrow. Its effect was quite different to when Lucius or even Draco did it: she looked merely curious, even intrigued. "Potter distracted you?" she repeated.

"Yes, Mother." Draco said immediately. "He probably meant to all along, he stops at nothing to ensure I and our family are made fools of."

Narcissa held up a delicate hand. "Ca suffit." She said firmly. "After my divorce we will be on the same side in a war as Harry Potter and his allies; it would not be prudent to allow old rivalries to get the better of us."

"Yes, but still…" Draco began, and Narcissa silenced him with a look. "Enough." She repeated. "Veela you may be, Dragon, but you still need to learn how to grow out of your old patterns. From now on you must remember that everyone who supports the light side is a potential ally for us. Events have resulted in us being the weaker in this situation; we cannot afford to make unnecessary enemies, is that clear?"

"Yes, Mother." Draco murmured, chastened.

"Good." She nodded, satisfied. "Now, as you've received your book list, do you wish to go to Diagon Alley today to purchase your school supplies, or at a later date?"

Draco considered. "Today." He answered.

"Very well. Go and get ready; I have one last thing to attend to before we go." Narcissa said. Draco nodded and murmured his thanks before standing up from his chair and leaving the room.

Narcissa watched him go, frowning slightly. Her discussion with her son had caused a possibility to occur to her, and now she needed an opinion on it before the situation could continue any further.

She got up from her desk and walked to the elaborate fireplace; tossing a handful of Floo powder into the grate, she allowed the resulting flame to appear properly before kneeling with a slight grimace and putting her head into the fire.

"27 Spinner's End!" she said clearly, and braced herself against the spinning sensation that ensued. When it finally desisted she found herself once more looking out into Severus's private study; he was sitting at a nearby desk, writing something.

"Severus!" she called. He visibly jumped and looked quickly to the fireplace; upon seeing who it was, he smiled and stood to stride over to the fireplace, where he then knelt down.

"Narcissa." He greeted. She noted with surprise the slight tinge occupying his sallow cheeks. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, not exactly." She answered. "Draco's just received his OWL results, you see, and I was surprised to see he received an Acceptable in Charms."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I see. A disaster, sure enough."

"Well naturally it would not be that big of deal, normally." She concurred. "But when I questioned him about it he answered me that Harry Potter was to blame, as the boy 'distracted' my son during his practical examination."

"Narcissa, there is nothing that can be done to change the grade." Snape said.

"No, no, you misunderstand me, that is not my concern at all." Narcissa protested. "It made me think about how Draco and the Potter boy have always been bitter rivals, and how much Draco has always spoken about the boy, if only in contempt. He seemed to light up, to a degree, just then when speaking of Potter." She paused. "I haven't seen him like that before."

Snape was silent, clearly thinking hard. "You suspect that Potter may be Draco's mate?" he asked finally.

"I believe it's a possibility, yes." Narcissa replied. "Traditionally Veela are not paired with whom they believe they will be. And it is true that Potter was born to be a source of strength, emotionally and physically, regardless of what his upbringing was."

"Perhaps so, but magically?" Snape sounded sceptical. "The boy is mediocre to the greatest degree. He possesses not the kind of magical power that Draco's magic boost warranted."

"How do you know?" Narcissa argued. "Has anyone ever considered what the boy could do, if given the right opportunity?"

"Albus Dumbledore, perhaps." Snape sounded dismissive. "But Narcissa, this is madness. The two would not go together – it is as simple as that."

"Maybe not the way they are now." Narcissa agreed. "But their innate selves, their very beings that are not tarred by their life experiences, may go together. It is true; it is highly unlikely that Draco's mate is Harry Potter. But you have to admit, the possibilities if it were so are tantalising. I'm not saying it as a definite – I merely wish to ask you to keep an eye on Draco, and perhaps on Potter too, once they reach Hogwarts." She appealed to him. "Draco may not wish to tell me anything if my theory proves correct. I will need you to help me."

Snape wavered for a moment, looking at her in the eyes for a few moments before looking quickly away, the tinge present in his sallow cheeks once more. "Very well." He said finally. "I will do what I can, within my power."

"Thank you." She smiled warmly at him, and the tinge on his cheeks deepened slightly. "I will make sure Draco knows he can turn to you once at Hogwarts should any difficulties occur for him. I cannot thank you enough, Severus, for helping both of us so."

"It is no difficulty." Snape waved her off, looking as close to embarrassed as he got. "I shall speak with you later, then."

"Yes, yes. Thank you again, and goodbye!" Narcissa farewelled him, and then pulled her head out of the fireplace and cast a cleansing spell on her delicate robes to ensure their cleanliness.

She had returned to her letter and written a good few lines before a knock on the door announced Draco's return.

"I am ready, Mother." He said to her, doing a little twirl to show off the elegant robes he wore. "Shall we go?"

"Of course, Dragon." Narcissa smiled at him. As he stepped up to the fireplace in preparation for leave for Diagon Alley, she watched him, thinking. If her theory about Draco's mate proved correct, it would mean a very interesting change of events for her son. She only hoped he'd be able to deal with them, should they ever come.

_TBC_

**AN: Oooo Narcissa's figured it out! Of course, she isn't actually sure if she has. But she's a lot smarter than people give her credit for. Also if you look at canon, it's my opinion Draco's actually pretty good at school, even if it's only to make his Daddy love him, so I gave him a fair amount of Oustandings.**

**The next chapter will be Diagon Alley chapter. Just a quick notice, Harry and Draco WILL NOT be coming face to face whilst they are both there. Draco, however, will be aware of Harry's presence. I can assure that, at least :P We are getting closer to the train, though.**

**Well that's all from me, so thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	7. Just Your Normal Trip To Diagon Alley

**AN: Hey everyone! Thanks to those who reviewed chapter 6. Chapter 7's ready and good to go, so read on!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Seven – Just Your Normal Trip To Diagon Alley

_August 20th_

The Ministry car came purring to a smooth stop beside the curb. The building beside it had a wooden sign hanging outside the door, illustrating a cauldron with the words 'The Leaky Cauldron' written around it. However, most of this sign was obscured by the enormous figure of a very large man who was standing outside the pub and beaming in the general direction of the car.

The car doors opened, and Mrs Weasley, Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry all piled out. The latter four all grinned back at the enormous man.

"Hey, Hagrid!" Ron greeted as they all went to stand around him. "We didn't know you were going to be here!"

"Yeh, I'm the extra security." Hagrid puffed out his already considerably sized chest. "The Ministry wanted to send Aurors, but Dumbledore stepped in and said I'd do the job just fine by myself."

Harry felt a jolt of relief shoot through him; he hadn't been particularly looking forward to being tailed around Diagon Alley by a bunch of Aurors.

"We'll only be a few hours, I expect." Mrs Weasley was saying to the car driver. There was an inaudible reply, and then Mrs Weasley hurried over to them as the car sped away through the traffic, seemingly disappearing around the corner within seconds even though the traffic in the street was reasonably heavy.

"Oh, Hagrid." Mrs Weasley gave the gamekeeper a distracted smile. "Good to see you. Shall we get going, then?"

"Right yeh are, Molly." Hagrid said cheerfully, and he herded the others through the door of the pub with a sweep of his arm.

The Leaky Cauldron was different; while it usually contained at least a good smattering of customers, today it was completely empty. Tom the barman stood behind the bar, mechanically wiping an already clean glass with a rag. He looked up as they entered.

"Hagrid," he began eagerly, but Hagrid waved an enormous hand towards him as he swept them all along in front of him.

"Sorry Tom, haven't got time today. Hogwarts business." Hagrid said over his shoulder, and then they were in front of the brick wall in the small area out the back of the pub.

Mrs Weasley pulled out her wand and tapped on the correct brick, and they all stood and waited for the wall to clear the way. Then, they stepped into Diagon Alley.

The Leaky Cauldron was not the only thing that had changed. Diagon Alley had always, in Harry's memory, been filled with talk and laughter and movement as the witches and wizards went about their shopping. The wizards and witches were definitely still present; however, there was something decidedly creepy in the way they went about their business, avoiding eye contact with strangers, moving hurriedly from shop to shop. The sight of both Ollivander's and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour being boarded up did not contribute to the atmosphere either.

"Right," Mrs Weasley consulted a list anxiously, "I've got all of your measurements, so I'll go and get you all sorted for robes at Madam Malkin's. Why don't you four go ahead to Flourish and Blott's with Hagrid, and I'll meet you there in about ten minutes?" she looked to Hagrid questioningly.

Hagrid gave her a reassuring smile. "They'll be fine with me, Molly." He soothed. "See yeh soon, then."

They all waved goodbye to Mrs Weasley at the front of Madam Malkin's and continued on, heading for the bookstore. Harry caught up with Hagrid as they walked.

"So, how's yeh summer been, Harry?" Hagrid asked.

Harry shrugged. "Alright." He answered. "It got loads better once I left the Dursleys, though."

Hagrid considered him for a moment. "An' yeh holdin' up alrigh'?" he asked, a little more tentatively.

Harry tensed briefly, hearing as always the question behind the question. "Yeah." He answered honestly. "I'm coping with it, I think."

Hagrid nodded slowly, and then unexpectedly clapped Harry on the shoulder so that Harry nearly got knocked sideways from the force. "Yeh'll be alrigh', Harry." He said, pausing to help steer them through a particularly large group of overexcited second-year students and their parents. "Yeh'll be OK."

"Yeah." Harry said noncommittally as they arrived outside Flourish and Blotts.

"Righ'," Hagrid stopped them before they entered, "I'll wait here an' keep an eye out. Yeh lot all know what books yeh need?"

They nodded their assent.

"Righ' then. Off yeh go." He waved them into the store.

Once inside, Hermione hurried off immediately, seeming more of a woman on a mission than ever. The other three were more content to browse the shelves and seek out their required books at leisure.

"I always thought Hermione could seriously live in a book store if she wanted to." Ron remarked to Harry as they caught a glimpse of Hermione's bushy brown hair flying past the aisle they were in. "It's practically her heaven."

Harry chuckled, scanning the shelves. "Yeah, either that or a library." He commented, running a finger along the titles along the shelf.

Ginny joined them now, carrying The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and a second hand OWL level book for Muggle Studies.

"Oi Harry," she asked, dropping her voice slightly in the musty quiet of the shop, "are we continuing on with the DA this year? Because I've seen some excellent books here we could use."

"Wouldn't be much point, would there?" Ron mused. "Because obviously we won't be having Umbridge again this year, which would mean we'll actually be getting some proper Defense classes, hopefully."

Hermione joined them, her arms piled high with books, as Harry said, "I suppose so, but still, it won't hurt to still have a focus on some of the more practical Defense magic, will it? Everyone needs as much as they can get, wouldn't they?"

"Is this about the DA?" Hermione asked around her tower of books.

"Yep." Ginny confirmed.

"I think we should continue it." She said, adjusting her arms slightly. "Harry's right, everyone needs as much experience at practical Defense magic as we can get." She paused, looking anxious. "I was thinking, maybe this year we could consider offering up the group to a wider variety of people." She began hesitantly. "Like, to Slytherins."

There were general squawks of protest at her words from Ron and Ginny.

"But Hermione, they're _Slytherins!_ They'll probably gather all the information they can on us and then go running off to their parents." Ron protested. "And we all know where the information will go from there."

"Ron's right." Ginny agreed. "We have no evidence that we can trust any of them."

Ron turned to Harry. "Don't you agree, Harry?" he asked.

Harry looked thoughtful, if hesitant as well. "I don't like nor trust any of the Slytherins," he said slowly, "but I think I have to agree with Hermione here. There's a possibility not all of them are lost to our side, and if there's a chance to help them learn to defend themselves, I'm happy to take it."

Ron looked horrified, Ginny mildly shocked. Hermione beamed at Harry.

"I knew you'd agree with me, Harry." She said, smiling happily at him.

"I never completely disagreed with you!" Ron said immediately. Harry and Ginny shared an exasperated eye roll as Hermione looked over to Ron with scorn.

"Oh really, Ronald, because it sounded to me like that was exactly what you were doing!" she frowned. Ron hurried to make amends.

"No, no, I do think it's a good idea in theory, it's just that in practise it might not work." He said with his best 'super convincing' smile.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, Ronald." She eyed each of them in turn. "Have you guys even _started _looking for the books you need?" she demanded of them.

"Erm…" Ron looked vaguely guilty, "No."

"Well, get a move on then, we only had ten minutes before your mother was going to come and collect us to move to the next place!" Hermione said bossily. "Move it! Now!"

And as what usually happened when Hermione Granger ordered something, the others scattered and hurried off at once, eager to escape any further wrath of their bushy-haired friend.

HPDM

Draco absently fiddled with the sleeve of his robe and held his chin up high. He and his Mother had arrived at Diagon Alley to find it a lot different to the way it had always been in previous years. All the people seemed quiet and subdued, anxious about being in the open as though fearing they'd be struck down by a curse at any moment.

This didn't mean they were oblivious to the half-Veela that was currently amongst them, however. People kept holding their gaze on him as they passed him; a few had even tripped over other people or run into signposts as a result. Those that lined the streets stared at him as he passed, all of their eyes vaguely vacant and their expressions hungry.

"You are using the Allure, my Dragon." His mother remarked lightly as she stared down a third-year girl who was gaping openly at Draco. "You may want to turn it off, lest you start to attract undesirable individuals."

"Oh, right, I didn't realise." Draco said, and concentrated for a moment on his magic. On cue, the people around him lost the glazed expressions in their eyes, although many were still blatantly checking him out as he passed.

He and his mother had been walking for only a few more moments before Draco stopped dead in the middle of the path, his eyes wide and shining brightly in a disturbing manner.

Narcissa glanced back and was startled to see her son standing so very still a few metres behind her. "Draco?" she asked, confused, backtracking to stand beside her son. "What is it, what's the matter?"

Draco shook his head, closing his eyes as he breathed deep through his nose. His eyes unexpectedly snapped open again, still shining disturbingly bright silver.

"Dragon?" Narcissa questioned again, a little more frantically than before.

"Mother…I think…" Draco paused again, breathing deep, "I think my mate is here."

Narcissa immediately turned and began scanning the crowds in the alley, as though hoping someone would miraculously be standing a few metres away with a big, 'I'm Draco's life partner!' sign around their necks.

"No…" Draco took a few shaky steps, "they aren't right here…but they're close…" he began walking, right past his mother and on through the alley. He had taken only a few steps before when the gnawing sensation that had been present in his stomach all summer had suddenly changed into a kind of churning feeling, warm and persistent. His mate was in the vicinity, Draco was sure of it.

Narcissa had no choice but to hurry after her son, who was walking quite quickly along, ignoring the stares he was attracting, still with brightly silver eyes that were set ahead of himself in determination.

After about a minute of this, Draco stopped short once more and stayed completely still, as though listening for something Narcissa couldn't hear. She caught up with him and stood beside him, waiting quietly for some sign from him.

Draco gave a sudden groan of frustration. "They aren't as close as they were." He said softly, his hands clenching into fists. "They're beyond my perception now. They must have gone into a shop." He was actually about to walk into the nearest shop, presumably about to begin a mission to search through every shop in Diagon Alley, but Narcissa stopped him.

"Dragon." She said clearly, taking by the shoulders and interrupting his vision by staring straight into his eyes. "I know you want to find your mate, and I want you to as well, but we have to do what we came here to do. The odds of you finding them in these crowds are extremely slim, do you understand? Now will hardly be the time to begin your courtship of them, in the middle of such a public place. It is unseemly. Come, let's go."

Draco shook his head as though trying to rid his ears of water. What his mother was telling him was undoubtedly true. It would be appalling if he met his mate for the first time in such a common place as this. But still, there was that feeling in his stomach, which was not churning as strongly as before, but was still urging him to seek out his mate…

"Maintenant, Draco." Narcissa said firmly.

Draco was silent for a moment. "As you say, Mother." He said finally, ignoring the protesting voice in his head as he turned and followed his mother in the opposite direction.

HPDM

Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys emerged from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, laughing and talking excitedly as they waved goodbye to the twins over their shoulders. After being in the bookstore, they had hurried from store to store; to replenish supplies for Harry and Ron's owls, as well as for general things such as quills, ink and parchment. Hermione and Ginny had had a brief stop in the apothecary for Potions supplies (Harry and Ron had stayed outside, as they had not achieved an O in Potions that necessitated the need to buy any ingredients) and had spent a good half an hour or so at the twins shop, exploring the various items and supplies they had found there.

Fred and George Weasley had both wrung Harry's hand and thanked him excessively for giving them his Triwizard winnings some years prior, as it had lead to this opportunity for them. They had even tried to force free products on him as a way of thanking him, and he had accepted as few as possible of these. Now, it was late afternoon, and Mrs Weasley was in a hurry to get them all back outside the Leaky Cauldron, where the Ministry cars would pick them up.

"Quickly, quickly now," she said, waving goodbye to the twins one last time over her shoulder and checking her watch. "I told them we'd be there in 10 minutes."

They set off, hurrying past the different crowds of shoppers, heading for the beginning of Diagon Alley.

They were nearing the entrance and making good time when Harry stopped suddenly, for he had just experienced the most peculiar sensation – a sudden feeling of warmth had erupted in his stomach, and an unknown force was calling out to him, wanting him to stay…

"Harry?" Ron looked around to his friend and was startled to see he had fallen behind, and was standing still, a glazed expression on his face. "Mate, come on, what are you doing, we have to get going!" He tried to pull on Harry's arm, but the brunette would not budge.

Harry shook his head vaguely, feeling very punch-drunk.

"No, I shouldn't…he's looking for me." Harry said softly, a content smile lighting up his features.

Hermione appeared beside them, having evidently realised something was wrong. "What's wrong with him?" she asked Ron urgently.

He shook his head helplessly. "I don't know, he just stopped walking and came over all funny!" Ron said. "I don't know what's gotten into him!"

"Well, come on then, help me pull him." Hermione commanded, and seized hold of Harry's right arm; Ron grabbed hold of Harry's left arm. Together, they successfully managed to begin pulling him along in the wake of Hagrid and Mrs Weasley and Ginny. Harry made no move to resist; a strange expression still remained on his face.

Once they had arrived in the courtyard out the back of the pub, Harry blinked and shook his head before looking around him.

"What…what happened?" he questioned blearily. Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.

"You stopped walking back there, and you started acting weird." Ron told the brunette. "I don't know what got into you, mate. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah…yeah…fine." Harry frowned, trying to place the feeling he was experiencing. It was telling him to do…something, but what that was, he wasn't sure. He remembered feeling something calling out to him, and a feeling of warmth in his stomach…

"Harry?" Ron and Hermione's concerned faces swam in front of him, and he shook himself and tried to smile.

"I'm fine." He told them. "I'm sorry I scared you guys back there, I…really don't know what came over me."

Hermione opened her mouth, but at that moment Mrs Weasley appeared in the doorway leading from the courtyard to the pub.

"What are you lot doing? The car's waiting outside, get a move on!"

She disappeared, leaving the trio staring at each other.

"We'll talk about it when we get back to the Burrow." Harry assured his friends.

Hermione bit her lip, looking hesitant. "Alright." She agreed finally. "Come on, we better go."

They followed one after the other through the doorway leading back to the pub.

HPDM

"Dammit!" Draco slammed his fist against a nearby wall. "Damn it all to hell! Dammit, dammit, dammit!"

"Dragon, really." Narcissa murmured, frowning disapprovingly at him. "Get yourself together, people are looking."

Draco drew in a shaky breath and straightened up, clearly doing his utmost to compose himself. "I'm sorry, Mother." He ground out eventually, absently shaking his now sore hand. "It's just that they were so close that time, I could sense them, they were here, and now they're gone."

"And no doubt they were aware of you that time, I suspect." Narcissa commented. "I can't imagine it's possible to not be able to feel it when a half-Veela is chasing you down."

"Good." Draco growled, and turned murderous eyes towards several gaping onlookers, who were standing nearby. "What are you looking at?" he snarled aggressively, and they scattered. He turned back to his mother.

"I want them to know about me, because the next time I'm near them, I'm going to make sure I see them." He said determinedly, and then his steely façade seemed to melt away. "I need them, Mother."

"I know, my Dragon, I know." Narcissa murmured. She checked her own list. "I believe we have everything we came here to get. Shall we return home?"

"Yes." Draco said resignedly. He followed his mother in the direction of the entrance to Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron, thinking of September 1st, which would surely be the day that he would finally come face to face with his mate.

HPDM

"Alright, Harry, spill. What was going on back there?"

Hermione gazed at him seriously from her position, perched on the edge of Ron's desk. Harry was sitting on his mattress on the floor, Ron on his bed. After they had said goodbye to Hagrid and travelled back to the Burrow, Hermione had urged both of them up to Ron's bedroom, throwing excuses to Ginny as she went. Now they were sitting here, ready to discuss Harry's odd behaviour at Diagon Alley.

"Look, Hermione, I already told you." Harry ran a frustrated hand through his messy hair. "I really don't know what was going on."

"D'you think it had something to do with You-Know-Who?" Ron ventured cautiously.

Hermione and Harry both looked to him, frowning as they considered.

"I don't think it was." Harry said finally. "All that happened was my stomach felt really warm all of a sudden, and I could sense this kind of unknown force that wanted me to stay where I was."

"And you said, 'He's looking for me.'" Ron reminded him.

"Did I?" Harry frowned more, puzzled. He had no recollection of saying anything. "Well, regardless, I doubt it had something to do with Voldemort," he rolled his eyes at Ron's strangled noise, "because although I guess it was bizarre, it wasn't exactly life threatening or terrifying."

Hermione's brow was furrowed; clearly she was thinking hard. "It doesn't sound particularly like Voldemort," (she stopped to utter a contemptuous 'For heaven's sake, Ron!' when Ron made yet another strangled noise) "but if you said something like that and don't recall it, that definitely suggests to me something, at least, is going on."

Harry wavered, hesitating, wondering if he should tell his friends about the latest addition to his long list of recurring dreams. It might prove a good idea: after all, Hermione was well known for being the smartest person in their year, and it was entirely possible that it could be a vital clue in figuring out what, if anything, was happening.

"There's another thing." Harry began, absently running a hand through his hair again. "Since around the start of summer, I've been having this dream."

Hermione gasped, her hands over her mouth. "Not again, Harry." She groaned. "I thought Occlumency was meant to teach you not to have those kinds of dreams!"

"No, no, it's a different kind of dream to the ones I got last year, bar that it's recurring." Harry corrected her. "A lot different, actually."

He described the dream to his best friends, from its beginnings of running through the forest to the end, when the light disappeared and he woke up.

"…I have it every night, and every night it gets more and more frustrating when the light disappears." He finished. "I don't think it has anything to do with Voldemort, because it just doesn't seem to be the kind of thing he'd want me to dream about…or be dreaming about himself."

Hermione's brow was furrowed once more. "No, I think you're right, Harry." She said finally. "I really think this doesn't have anything to do with Voldemort."

Ron, who had visibly winced, interrupted. "Well if it hasn't got anything to do with You-Know-Who, then what does it have to do with?" he challenged.

Hermione bit her lip, looking concerned. "I don't know." She said. "I'll have to do some research, of course, and see what I can find out, but I'm not hopeful. Well…just watch yourself, all right Harry? Make sure you tell me if you experience anything else out of the ordinary or unusual."

Harry nodded, and Hermione glanced absently towards the walls, staring blankly at one of Ron's many Quidditch posters before turning back to Harry suddenly.

"Can you remember what day you started having the dream?" she asked him.

Harry frowned, trying to remember. "Early June?" he guessed. "About the 4th or the 5th, I think."

Hermione frowned as well. "Not an extremely significant date, magically." She said, half to herself. "Curious."

At that moment there was a series of loud bangs on the door, and Ginny's voice echoed in to them.

"Mum says to come downstairs and get your things, and then to come back down and help with dinner, and what are you lot discussing anyway?"

"Nothing important, Ginny." Hermione said quickly, already crossing the room and opening the door. Ginny stood on the threshold, frowning slightly at them. There was a loaded silence; Ginny eventually raised both her eyebrows.

"Fine." She said sniffily. "Be that way. You lot had better hurry up, Mum wants to make sure dinner's ready before Dad gets home."

"We're just coming now." Harry said, and he and Ron stood and followed the girls out the door and down the staircase.

Harry felt considerably lighter, somehow, having released that burden about the dream off his chest to his friends. Although the entire incident at Diagon Alley had freaked him out, he supposed there was nothing else to do about it than wait to see what Hermione's research yielded, to show if the incident and the dreams were connected at all.

Then there was still the matter of the prophecy, of course, something which caused him worry every day whenever it came to mind, but the right opportunity to tell them had not yet come up, and he didn't want to make a big deal of it anyway, when the time came.

HPDM

_August 25th – The Burrow_

"Are you gonna eat your bacon?" Ron mumbled to Harry around a mouthful of his own bacon, jabbing his fork in the direction of Harry's plate.

"Nah, mate, you can have it." Harry told his friend, picking up the plate and tipping the bacon onto Ron's. "I'm full."

"Excellent." Ron mumbled, reaching out for the bottle of tomato sauce and beginning to pour liberal amounts of sauce onto the bacon.

Hermione glanced up from across the table, where her head had previously been buried in _Advanced Rune Translation, _to look disgustedly at Ron. "Really, Ronald." She said, "Can you at least try to talk without food in your mouth, for once?"

Ron swallowed his mouthful hastily, with the effect that he immediately began coughing, and his face turned red. "Sorry, Hermione." He said weakly.

She sniffed at him, although there was a slight smile on her face, and promptly went back to her book; Harry took a sip of orange juice from the glass beside him, his gaze absently going out the window. Squinting against the sharp glare of the sun, he realised something was approaching the house.

It didn't take long before the something revealed itself to be an owl, and a Hogwarts one at that. It fluttered neatly to a stop on the kitchen windowsill and looked at him, pointedly holding out its leg, to which an envelope was attached.

Harry blinked in confusion but nonetheless stood to go and retrieve the envelope from the owl. Ron and Hermione both looked up at his movement.

"What are…hey! What's a school owl doing here?" Ron questioned, noticing the owl for the first time.

Hermione was frowning at it from over her book. "How strange." She remarked. "Booklists and everything have already been delivered."

Harry untied the envelope the owl was carrying. It was addressed to him. He showed the others.

"Go on, Harry, open it!" Ron said eagerly.

Harry did so, hurriedly slitting open the envelope and unfolding the parchment within. It contained elegant, slightly slanted handwriting that Harry recognized.

_Harry,_

_If it is convenient to you, I will be giving you private lessons this year, dates and times specified as needed. I do hope you are having a pleasant summer, and I shall see you here at Hogwarts on September 1st_

_Albus Dumbledore_

Harry re-read the letter again, his heart beating rather erratically. Dumbledore wanted to give him private lessons – that could only be to do with the prophecy, perhaps teaching him things to aid him when the time eventually came for that final showdown with Voldemort.

"Harry?" Hermione questioned tentatively.

Realising he had no choice, Harry read the letter out loud to his friends. Once he was finished, they both stared at him for a long moment.

"But why on earth would Dumbledore be giving you private lessons?" Hermione asked. "I suppose logically it would have something to do with the prophecy, but that was smashed in the Department of Mysteries. No one knows what it said."

Harry took a deep breath. Now or never. "Actually…there's something I've been wanting to tell you." He began, hesitantly rubbing the back of his neck. "That was only the record of the prophecy. Dumbledore told me what the prophecy said when we were back in his office."

Hermione gasped, her hands over her mouth.

Ron also looked suitably stunned. "Hang on, how did he know what it said?" He asked, sounding confused.

"He was the person it was told to." Harry answered quietly. "So he showed me, from his Penseive, the memory of Professor Trelawney speaking the prophecy."

Hermione gasped again. "Professor Trelawney made the original prophecy?" she asked, amazed.

"Yep," Harry confirmed, "when Dumbledore was interviewing her for the post of Divination teacher."

"Well…" Ron looked slightly frightened, "what did it say, mate? If you want to tell us, that is." He added hastily.

"I'm not going to sugar-coat it." Harry warned them.

Hermione waved a hand. "We wouldn't expect you to, Harry."

"Alright." Harry took a deep breath, recalling the words of the prophecy. "It basically said that someone with the power to vanquish Voldemort was approaching, and that he would mark that person as an equal, but they would have power that he knows not." He let his breath out slowly, bracing for the next part. "And then it basically says it's either kill or be killed…or, well, that neither can live while the other survives." He waited tensely for the response.

Hermione's brown eyes were as wide as saucers as she stared at him. "Oh, Harry…" she breathed. "That's…I can't pretend I wasn't expecting something like that, but so bluntly like that, I…" impulsively she grabbed him and hugged him. "You'll be alright, Harry." She whispered firmly into his shoulder. She pulled back and looked at him seriously. "We'll help you."

"Yeah, mate." Ron's voice came out slightly shaky. "I mean, obviously Dumbledore wouldn't be giving you private lessons if he thought you were a goner, would he? And you know," he hastened to add after Hermione shot him a murderous glare, "me and Hermione will be there, we'll help you."

"I suppose the private lessons make sense." Hermione mused, stepping away from Harry now. "He'll probably be teaching you really advanced defence magic, I'd expect…counter curses and jinxes and the like."

"And then you can teach them to the DA!" Ron enthused. "And then we'll all be ready to fight!"

Harry looked at the two of them, clearly more shaken than they wanted to let on but determined to keep a cool head for his benefit, and thanked whatever lucky stars he had that meant he had them for best friends.

"Thanks, you guys, for you know…not freaking out." He said in a low voice.

Ron grinned and waved a hand. "No problem. Now, at least, I can get back to breakfast."

Harry laughed and the three of them settled back down at the table.

"By the way, Hermione, have you found anything about the, erm, _happenings _recently?" Harry questioned. In response, Hermione sighed and set her book down.

"No." she said, frustrated. "I've been looking up everything I can think of, but the date just doesn't have any true magical significance, nor can I find anything to explain the way you acted. It just doesn't make sense."

Disappointed, Harry nonetheless smiled at her. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll figure it out." He encouraged. "You've never met a mystery you haven't been able to solve."

"That's what I'm worried about." Hermione sighed. "I'm afraid that maybe I have."

Well. That was disconcerting.

_TBC_

**AN: Ooooh marvel at the chapter, and how long it is! I was gonna make it longer but I might save that scene I have in mind for the start of the next chapter, hm?**

**Well, obviously June 5th has no magical significance, bar the fact that it's Draco's birthday! Hermione wouldn't know that, however, so we can't blame her.**

**Hehehe mysterious Veela forces. Spooky. O.0 making Harry say stuff he doesn't remember saying.**

**I'm thinking next chapter shall contain trainage, finally. So keep an eye out for that one.**

**Alright, well thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	8. Heading for Hogwarts

**AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 7. Here's chapter 8.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Eight – Heading For Hogwarts

_August 29th_

The rain and wind combined together, bashing and knocking insistently against the impenetrable stone walls that lined the island in the sea. A vicious, late summer storm was raging. Lightning flashed periodically and thunder boomed across the dark clouds as nature unleashed its fury upon the desolate location of Azkaban Prison.

The inside of the prison was comparatively darker; the long rows of cells and the walkways outside them were dank and murky, the fire in the torch brackets along the walls doing little to pierce the gloom.

A middle-aged man in a wizarding cloak appeared at the end of one of the rows. He had a nervous air about him, as though the slightest thing would startle him, and he wore glasses that perched timidly on his rather small nose. A stern-looking Ministry guard, dressed in black with cold eyes, accompanied him. The guard began to lead him down the long row of cells. The man, a wizarding lawyer by the name of Francis Oake, couldn't stop himself from peering curiously into the cells they passed.

He was rewarded with sorry sights; person after person with dull, lifeless eyes, grimy clothing and skin, shrivelling flesh. Oake shuddered to himself and averted his eyes.

They arrived at the final cell in the row. It measured maybe three metres wide by four metres in length, and was barely tall enough for a full-grown man to stand in. It was fitted out with only a single, sorry-looking bed, and a somewhat grimy urinal. Its occupant sat against the bed, leaning against the wall, dark robes contrasting with the lank, unkempt strands of white-blonde hair that flowed over his shoulders.

The guard cleared his throat. "Lucius Malfoy." He stated. His voice was cold and sharp, somewhat like a dagger made of ice.

Lucius looked up; his cool grey eyes betrayed no hint of the madness commonly associated with his surroundings as he gazed at the guard.

"You have a visitor." The guard said, somewhat patronizingly, and then turned to Oake, hovering in the shadows behind him.

"Make it quick." The guard commanded warningly. He stalked a few paces away and stood there, silent and cold.

Oake stepped forward into the full visibility of his client.

"Ah, Francis." Lucius' smile was thin. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Always unshakingly polite, even when imprisoned, Oake noted. "I have come with news, Lucius." He answered, opening his briefcase and rummaging around within it. He extracted one particular sheet of parchment and squinted at it over his eyeglasses. "News of a legal nature, naturally."

"Get on with it." Lucius's hiss, whilst venomous, lacked the noticeable bite that had been present before his imprisonment.

"Yes, yes." Oake straightened the parchment, wondering how best to deliver the news. "I have come here to inform you that your wife has been taking the steps for divorce."

Lucius' eyes flashed dark grey for a moment. "What?" he hissed.

"She has gone through all the suitable arrangements with her lawyers, and has already had the case put through the appropriate channels." Oake explained, almost apologetically. "It has already been decided that she has enough evidence to allow the divorce to go ahead, however, her head lawyer sent me a message stating that your signature was needed on this document." He gestured towards the parchment.

Lucius' cool grey eyes were practically slits in the wake of his fury. "It is simple, then." He spat. "I will not sign it."

"Well…" Oake pinched the bridge of his nose, "therein lies the problem. If you do not sign, she will sue you, and judging from the argument she has against you, there is no doubt she would win easily."

Lucius audibly snarled. He got off the bed and came to stand at the front of the cell. "Very well. I will sign it." He hissed. Oake hurriedly produced an inked quill, which he handed to Lucius. Lucius signed the bottom of the parchment through the bars, and then gave back the quill.

"So, Narcissa is divorcing me." He mused venomously, whilst Oake squirmed slightly uncomfortably. Lucius lowered his voice. "She has no thought of what the Dark Lord will think, then?"

"No, she has given every thought to that." Oake corrected him quietly. "From what I gathered, Lucius, she is going to the other side."

"She thinks to defy me after all this time by making a mockery of what I have built for her, and for our son?" Lucius growled. "What of my son, Francis, what of Draco?"

"For all intents and purposes, it seems the boy is on his mother's side." Oake answered.

Lucius actually made to slam his fist against the wall, but restrained himself just in time, with a glance towards the nearby guard. "Insolent boy!" he snarled instead. "Ungrateful, foolish boy! He shall see the error of his ways before the end."

"I have no doubt of that, Lucius." Oake murmured, also casting a weary eye towards the nearby guard. "I have more news for you."

"Oh?" Lucius regarded Oake with muted interest.

"Narcissa made arrangements for all the more…shall we say, incriminating evidence against you to be brought to light." Oake explained. "As a method of ensuring that any appeal we were to make for your release would be shot down immediately."

Lucius looked like he wanted to slam his fist against the wall again, but Oake continued on. "No matter, Lucius, no matter." He whispered, keeping one eye on the guard. "The Dark Lord has not forgotten you. He has plans."

Lucius raised a pale eyebrow, but Oake could see the excitement, the almost mad enthusiasm that flickered to life in those cold eyes. "Plans, you say?" he whispered. "Plans involving what I think they might?"

"Oh yes." Oake nodded. "The Ministry takeover of Azkaban was unexpected, but it matters not to our Lord. I come here with a message to tell you that your imprisonment will end sooner than you originally thought, my slippery friend."

Lucius grinned, a scary, maniacal grin. "The Dark Lord is coming for me." He whispered. "I knew he would not forsake me, I knew he would not forget."

"No." Oake said, smiling also. "Be on your guard. Be ready for anything. The Dark Lord has forgiven you, Lucius. He will come before the next month dies."

Lucius nodded tightly.

"Well, that is all of relevance I had to tell you." Oake fumbled some more with the papers until they were locked securely into his briefcase. "News of your divorce from Narcissa will reach the press, I don't doubt. Should you want to give a statement?"

"No comment." Lucius said quietly. "Always a simple 'No comment,' Francis. Narcissa will regret her decision."

Oake nodded. "I do not doubt it." He straightened up and called to the guard. "We are finished here."

The guard walked over, cold eyes appraising Lucius critically. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at him. A thin red light emerged from its tip; he scanned up and down Lucius' body with it, before tucking the wand away, satisfied.

"Come." He said commandingly to Oake, who bowed low.

"Lead the way."

Oake exchanged one last meaningful glance with his imprisoned client before following the guard back up the row of cells.

HPDM

_August 31st _

DIVORCE SHOCK: Malfoy Power Couple Split Up

_The Daily Prophet can now exclusively reveal that we have received reports that Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, one of the most powerful and influential couples in the wizarding world, have officially divorced as of yesterday._

_The pair, who had been married for nineteen years, presented themselves to the wizarding public as the very picture of domestic bliss as far as pure-blooded society standards go, even having a son together; Draco Malfoy, 16, who will be attending his sixth year of education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_However, Narcissa Malfoy has even gone through proceedings to legally change her last name back to her maiden name of Black, saying in a statement outside wizarding court yesterday, 'I did not want to remain in a marriage to that man any longer. My reasons are my own, but the result is clear: I will no longer have any ties with Lucius Malfoy, and within a day or so the paperwork will be organised for me to change my name back to Narcissa Black.'_

_Speculation is rife amongst the wizarding community as to how He-Who-Must-Be-Named will react to the news. Lucius Malfoy is currently residing in Azkaban after being caught last May at the now infamous incident in the Department of Mysteries, along with numerous other Death Eaters. The arrest came as a shock to numerous figures in the wizarding world, and it seems clear that a move away from Lucius on Narcissa's behalf is equal to a move away from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_However, when questioned yesterday, Narcissa merely stated that she had 'no comment' about that line of questioning. Similarly, Lucius Malfoy's lawyer Francis Oake has released a statement of 'no comment' on his client's behalf._

_The exact nature of the divorce and the conditions that go along with it are unknown as of yet, although _The Daily Prophet _wishes to ensure its readers it will do its best to find out this vital information._

Draco read out the last paragraph to his mother, snorted in contempt and then threw the thing aside. "It's a very Malfoy thing, isn't it, that whole 'no comment' business." He remarked.

It was evening of the night before Draco would be leaving for his first term at Hogwarts, and he and his mother were sitting in her study, going over the paper and talking together.

Narcissa smiled absently as she dipped her quill into its pot of ink. "Indeed." She said. "Of course, I never expected anything less from your father." She frowned absently at the parchment on the desk in front of her. "When they started aiming their questions towards the Dark Lord, though, I thought it would be the best answer to use."

"You did well, Mother." Draco congratulated her, still somewhat in awe at the grace and ease with which she had managed the whole affair. "You gave them no more than what they needed to know."

She chuckled. "You may have noticed one important aspect that was not mentioned, Dragon?"

Draco furrowed his brow, thinking. When he could not think of what he meant, however, he shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

Narcissa scribbled down a sentence and punctuated it with satisfaction before she looked up at him. "They mentioned nothing of you being head of the family." She said. "Naturally, were you seventeen or about to turn seventeen, they would be running an entire separate article filled with speculation about the matter." She cleared her throat delicately. "As of yet they are unaware about your true heritage."

"Good." Draco said fervently.

She heaved a tiny sigh. "However, that does not mean you can expect this to last the entire year, especially if you find your mate straightaway at the beginning of the school year."

Draco felt a gentle twinge in his stomach at the mere mention of the word mate, for tomorrow, finally, he would be getting the train to Hogwarts, where he felt certain he would find, woo and bond with his mate within a month. End of story, happily ever after. Draco was rather looking forward to it, really.

Since their visit to Diagon Alley Draco had treasured in his memory that feeling of churning in his stomach, and couldn't wait to feel it again. He burned with a desire to finally know who his mate was.

"Speaking of the rest of the year, Draco, I wanted to have a serious talk to you." Narcissa said, setting aside her quill for a moment and folding her pale hands in front of her, regarding him seriously. "Once you are at Hogwarts, it will not be as easy for me to help you should you run into any difficulties regarding your mate or your new powers. For this reason I have spoken with Severus, and he has agreed to be a figure you can turn to should you need urgent help with something. I will, as always, be contactable by owl or Floo, but the dangers of either method are still great, and for this reason, Severus will be a valuable resource should you need immediate assistance."

Draco waved a hand impatiently. "I'll be fine, Mother." He said dismissively.

"But if you are not, you must promise me to seek out his help." She said. "Promise me now, my Dragon, that you will go to Severus for help if you need it."

Draco scowled slightly but muttered "I promise I will, Mother," nonetheless.

"Thank you, Dragon." She turned her head towards the enormous grandfather clock that stood in the room. "And now, I think, it is time for you to be going to bed, you have a big day ahead of you tomorrow."

Draco nodded and stood. "Goodnight, Mother. I shall see you in the morning."

Narcissa smiled warmly at her son. "Goodnight, Dragon. Sweet dreams."

He gave a little formal bow and swept from the room, and Narcissa resumed her writing, smiling slightly despite herself.

HPDM

_September 1st_

"Come on now, everyone, hurry up!" Mr Weasley chided them as they hurried as one along the crowded area between platforms 9 and 10 at King's Cross Station. They attracted a number of stares from curious Muggles, and Harry felt he really couldn't blame them; they were after all a group of red haired people, a darkly messy haired boy and a bushy haired girl running wildly along the platform, with two owls and a multitude of trunks in tow. If Harry hadn't known the truth he would've been staring too.

"Right, is that everyone?" Mr Weasley panted finally as they arrived at the barrier that led the way onto Platform 9 and ¾. He scanned them hurriedly. "Everyone got their trunks? Yes? Alright, Ginny dear, you go first with Molly."

Mrs Weasley put her arm around her daughter's shoulders, glanced around inconspicuously and then the pair of them stepped smoothly through the barrier and out of sight.

"Ron, Hermione, you next." Mr Weasley encouraged.

Harry could almost see Ron's wish that he could put his arm around Hermione's shoulders; however, Ginny being absent meant he had no one to share the laugh with, and so merely tried to avoid laughing out loud as Ron, red-faced, stumbled through the barrier after Hermione.

"And now us, Harry." Mr Weasley finished with a worried glance towards the nearest clock. It read five minutes until 11 o' clock.

Seemingly with enough sense to know Harry wouldn't appreciate being guided through the barrier like a child, Mr Weasley merely gestured Harry up to beside the barrier, and then they stepped forward together. On the other side was the crowded, steamy platform, lined on one side by the scarlet Hogwarts Express and filled with wizards and witches farewelling their children off to school for another year.

The others were waiting for them when Harry and Mr Weasley joined them. "Alright, let's get your things onto the train." Mr Weasley panted, pushing his glasses further up his nose.

They set off along the platform, calling occasional hurried greetings to students they knew who were still on the platform, being farewelled by their parents. Finally, about three-quarters of the way down the train, they found a suitable place.

Mr Weasley helped Ginny manoeuvre her trunk onto the train, and did likewise for Hermione. Ron and Harry, with enough effort, managed to haul their trunks onto the train themselves, and turned to accept their owls from Ron's parents. Leaving their things there, they hopped back off to say goodbyes.

"Quickly, quickly," Mrs Weasley said hurriedly, hugging each of them in turn. "Be good, all of you, and keep out of trouble if you can."

"It's been a pleasure, Harry." Mr Weasley smiled warmly, shaking Harry's hand. "Off you all go, then, and have a good term!"

"Bye!" The four of them scurried back onto the train just as the doors began to close; with a loud whistle, the train began to slowly move, and they waved out the window to Mr and Mrs Weasley until they rounded a bend and couldn't see the pair anymore.

"See you guys later." Ginny said brightly, and set off down the carriage, dragging her trunk.

Harry turned to his friends. "Shall we find a compartment, then?"

"Oh…no, Harry, we can't, remember, we have to go to the Prefect meeting." Hermione apologised.

Harry blinked; he'd completely forgotten about that. "Oh right, yeah, I remember. Er…I'll see you both later, then."

"Bye, Harry." Ron and Hermione said together, and then they traced Ginny's footsteps, heading for the Prefect carriage. Harry set off in the opposite direction.

As he passed the various compartments, he got the very definite sensation he was being watched; indeed, every compartment he passed was filled with people who gawked openly at him upon realising who it was passing them.

Before long, he ran into Neville, who was clutching his toad Trevor in one hand and his trunk in another.

"Heya Harry, did you have a good summer?" Neville greeted.

"Yeah, it was alright." Harry replied honestly. "Haven't found a compartment yet, then?"

"No, everywhere is full." Neville said anxiously.

"Well, come on then." Harry shifted Hedwig's cage in his arms. "There's gotta be somewhere to go."

They struggled on, waving to several year mates they knew when they passed them, but still with no luck. Upon passing one of the compartments near the end of the carriage, however, Seamus and Dean came hurtling out of it, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello Harry, Neville." Seamus chirped. "Long time no see, eh?"

"Same to you." Neville grinned. "Haven't got room in your compartment, have ya?"

"No, sorry mate." Dean said. "We've got Justin and Ernie in here as well, there's not much room left. I think there's a few empty compartments towards the end." He pointed the way for them.

"Thanks, guys." Harry said gratefully; it was getting tiring dragging his trunk after him. He and Neville set off once more, finally finding an empty compartment where Dean had said they would. They gratefully settled in, stowing away their trunks and Hedwig's cage, before collapsing with relief onto the seats.

"Are we doing the DA again this year, Harry?" Neville asked hopefully.

Harry nodded. "Yep, we're going ahead with it."

"Excellent!" Neville beamed. "I really liked it last year, I learned loads with you!"

"Yeah, well." Harry pinched the bridge of his nose; he thought he felt a headache coming on. "You'll get a chance to learn even more now."

"Great!" Neville said happily. "I even managed to get an E in Defence Against The Dark Arts, Harry, Gran was really proud of me…"

They lapsed into comfortable conversation about their OWL results for awhile, whilst outside the English countryside whipped past.

HPDM

"Draco." Pansy reprimanded. "Stay still."

Draco scowled, sitting back down sulkily. "But Pansy," he whinged in as dignified a manner as possible, "you don't understand, I need to go find my mate!"

Pansy exchanged looks with the others. "Can you even sense them?" Blaise questioned.

Draco scowled prettily once more. "No." he muttered. "But that only means they aren't near here, they're further down the train, so can I go find them already?"

"NO!" Came the unanimous statement from the others.

"Do you want to attract attention to the fact that you're a half-veela looking for your mate?" Nott pointed out.

This was undoubtedly true; even just his arrival with Mother had been enough to send those nearby into a tizzy of excitement, to see freshly divorced Narcissa Malfoy and her son. Couple that with the fact that he looked, well, nothing short of mouth watering, and he had already caused quite a stir amongst the students, before they had even reached Hogwarts.

Draco sighed. "Fair point." He admitted grudgingly. "I just…you guys don't understand what it's been like." He complained. "All summer, with this gnawing feeling in my chest. I've got to find them, I just do."

"And you will, and they'll fall head over heels in love with you and you'll spend the rest of your life fornicating like rabbits." Pansy smiled. "But until then, let's behave with some decorum, shall we?"

"Fuck decorum!" Draco said angrily. "I've been nothing but the picture of decorum all summer long, Pansy! I want my mate!"

Pansy threw a look to the others that clearly said, 'Help me!'

"I know," Blaise said soothingly, "Why don't you go find Potty and his friends, that'll distract you, won't it?"

A slow, evil smile crept onto Draco's face. "Yes, that's a brilliant idea Blaise." He said, leaping to his feet. "I've got something I want to yell at Potter about as well." He very conveniently forgot his mother's warning to try and stay on the good side of the Boy Wonder.

"Hey," Theo said, inspired, "you could even practise using your Allure on Weasel and the Mudblood! And Potty too! That would be great!"

The others cackled.

Draco stood up, and then paused when Blaise, Theo and Pansy stood as well. "And where do you think you're going?" he drawled.

"With you, of course." Pansy said.

"Nuh uh." He shook his head. "I'm going to confront Potter by myself, thank you. And when I use the Allure I'd rather you guys weren't around to get sucked in by it at the same time."

This effectively caused them to resume their seats. Smiling with satisfaction, Draco left the compartment.

HPDM

Draco moved through the carriages, peering hopefully through the compartment windows. Numerous times he had to fend off enquiries and advances from overly forward students, something that annoyed him to no end.

He had just stepped onto carriage five when Draco stiffened suddenly, just as he had done in Diagon Alley. The churning feeling was suddenly alive and kicking in his stomach once more.

"They're here." He breathed, and he took off along the carriage at a run, causing the curious occupants of nearby compartments to poke their heads out in bemusement as he flashed past.

He slowed towards the end of the carriage, trying to control his wildly beating heart. They were here, he was sure of it. His mate, at last.

He stopped at one of the very final compartments, straightened his shoulders, and then moved to the window to see who was inside.

His eye travelled over the Mudblood, Weasel, Longbottom, and Potty…

All at once, he felt what seemed like a veritable explosion of warmth pour out of him. The glass he was looking through cracked and then shattered; somehow the door to the compartment ended up sliding open of its own accord.

The Mudblood, Weasel and Longbottom were all practically kneeling before him, eyes crossed and drool forming at their mouths, babbling an indecipherable stream of promises and proclamations that fell on deaf ears, really, because Draco wasn't listening, all he could see was the boy sitting completely stock still on the train seat…

Harry, meanwhile, only vaguely registered the fact that his friends were basically reduced to dribbling morons. All his attention was focused on Malfoy, because Merlin, Harry really didn't remember his arch rival having such elegantly messy, golden hair that actually _glowed _around his head like a halo, or such clear, alabaster skin, or such hauntingly beautiful silver eyes that were boring into him and Harry felt like he would simply explode with the sheer intensity of the moment.

And that was without the strange, foreign sensations that were pulsing through him, with that innate voice telling him that Malfoy needed him, needed his protection, and Merlin Harry had never felt such a pull like this towards another person in his life before, not even with Cho. He vaguely realised from the other sensations pulsing through him and the increasingly insistent throb around his crotch area that he'd never been this turned on in his life, either, just from looking at somebody.

Draco swallowed instinctively, noting that the longer he looked at Potter the more content the purring sensation that had replaced the churning in his stomach got. How the fuck, after five years of knowing him, had Draco never registered how infinitely gorgeous one Harry Potter was? Merlin, he had never really appealed to Draco before, but now that combination of dark, messy hair, tanned skin and glowing green eyes made him uncomfortably aware that as soon as they got to the dorms at Hogwarts he'd need the cold shower of the century. It wasn't just his imagination either telling him that Potter was taller, or that he had bulked up from being the skinny boy he'd known all those years.

Fucking hell, how did Potter become so attractive all of a sudden?

The purring in his stomach was joined now by an urge to go to Potter, touch him, kiss him, claim him…

_No!_

Draco shook himself and concentrated as hard as he could on reigning in his Allure. Eventually he felt it slide complacently back into place, and it was then that the Mudblood, Weasel and Longbottom seemed to come back to themselves, blinking and shaking their heads.

Draco stared at Potter for one last, long, perfect moment and then bolted, fighting down the churning that kicked up in his stomach in protest for every step he took away from where he'd just been and trying very, very hard not to panic.

The people in compartments as he ran past were standing around awkwardly, shaking their heads and blinking the exact same way the other three had done back there. Evidently his Allure had affected the entire carriage.

"Malfoy!" the voice echoed down the carriage, but Draco gritted his teeth and kept running, forcing down the Veela instinct to turn right back around and get back to the side of the dark-haired boy. Instead, he kept going until he was clear of that carriage, and the next, and the next, because the alternative was just too strange to give consideration to.

_TBC_

**AN: Hehehehe. First encounter! Draco is officially shitting himself. My, that was fun to write. :P**

**Had a long weekend due to Queen's birthday/extreme floodage so I was able to write this instead of concentrating on my French assessment task this week. Heh. Whoops. My reasoning is that I had to deliver some train-age to all my lovely readers, because they've been waiting for it, dammit!**

**So, please review, thanks for reading and I'll see ya next time!**

**bleedingxheart**

**(PS I'm keeping Snape as Potions prof. so opinions on who should be DADA teacher would be greatly appreciated, because I haven't made up my mind yet. Suggest some candidates!)**


	9. Dinner and Snape

**AN: o.0 200 reviews already. Holy shit lol. Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed, and also for the suggestions I received for DADA professor, I heard some interesting possibilities. Who did I choose? Well, you're going to have to read on ;) Here's chapter 9!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter 9 - Dinner and Snape

_September 1st_

"Hang on, Ron, calm down, you're not making sense." Hermione's reasonable voice interjected over the redhead's rambling, confused tirade.

The strange events that had been caused by Malfoy's presence had caused all within the carriage to be in an uproar. Some occupants moved between compartments to compare stories of what had happened. The very problem with this, of course, was that in the after effects of one of the stronger Allure releases ever, they couldn't remember anything except a feeling of overwhelming lust, so the frantic retelling was to no avail. In Harry's compartment, the story changed very little.

"All I remember is a feeling of overwhelming lust." Neville said. "The next thing I remember is that I was kneeling on the floor, for some reason."

"It's not natural." Ron contributed. He was sitting on the seat opposite Harry and Neville with Hermione, and still looked slightly shaken. "That's all I remember too. Whatever happened, something tells me it was wrong."

Hermione's brow was furrowed as she thought. "I have a feeling there's so much more to it than I remember, but I just can't get past the same thing as you guys remember." She said, frustrated. "There's something we're missing here."

She turned to Harry, who had been strangely silent for quite a while. "Harry?" she questioned. "What about you?"

Harry jumped slightly in his seat, startled out of his consideration of the window. It was beginning to rain outside. "Er, yeah, I experienced the same things you guys did." He lied quickly, trying to look nonchalant. "What I find really weird is why the window of our compartment door was smashed, but no one else's was."

Hermione had already closed the door and repaired the window easily; conversation now turned, again, towards the possible hows and whys as to its breaking, and Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief. Safe.

He was, in fact, able to remember every detail about exactly what had happened that had the carriage in such an uproar. He really didn't know why no-one else could remember what had happened, but had decided upon this realisation to keep his mouth shut, at least for the moment.

Really, what was he meant to tell them? That what had happened, whatever it was, had happened because of Malfoy's presence? That they had all turned into gibbering, rambling morons at the mere sight of the hated Slytherin? That it was thus likely that the 'overwhelming lust' they kept mentioning had been because of said Slytherin? That Harry himself had experienced it, except he had been perfectly aware at the time of who it had been directed towards?

Harry shuddered at the mere idea. No. Best not mention anything just yet.

He was the only one who had any inkling of exactly what had happened, and yet he really didn't understand why it had. He remembered the glass shattering and the door flying open and then Malfoy had been standing there, and Harry hadn't been able to move, he had been so stunned by the beauty of his archrival.

_Malfoy? Beautiful? _He questioned himself.

_Well, he was…_

Harry felt like kicking himself for thinking such ridiculous thoughts. Of course, then there had been the whole sensation of wanting to protect Malfoy, and the pull towards the blonde that had been stronger than anything Harry had ever experienced before. He knew he had an urge to protect everybody; he always had, but _Malfoy? _Since when did he have any desire to protect Malfoy?

He hadn't forgotten either the incident at Diagon Alley, nor his recurring dream, and he had an inkling each was connected somehow to what had happened here on the Hogwarts Express. The idea that Malfoy, of all people, seemed to be some kind of telling factor unsettled him.

He had been as surprised as anyone to hear about the divorce of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and knew of the rumours that were flying suggesting Narcissa would now be switching sides in the war. Whether this event would extend to Draco, if it even ever happened, was a hot topic of conversation in the days before school had started.

Harry had found it difficult to believe the Slytherin would ever be anything but the nasty, pro-Death Eater git he had been all their years at Hogwarts. He still did, actually. But nonetheless, the recent occurrences in his life were proof enough that something suspicious was going on, and it involved Malfoy in some way.

For the moment, he wouldn't mention to his friends what he knew. And he vowed to himself that once they got to Hogwarts he would confront Malfoy to try and find out the truth behind the encounter.

HPDM

"…the Weasel and the Mudblood were there, and I used it on them, all of them, and it was excellent." Draco said, keeping his evil grin plastered determinedly on his face as he retold his adventure down the other end of the train.

Blaise laughed. "Longbottom too?" he asked.

Draco nodded with sinister relish. "Yep." He confirmed.

A round of laughter went around the compartment at this, and Nott even patted Draco on the back with admiration. They had been delighted upon his return to hear Draco's tale of the Gryffindor's humiliating, Allure-addled promises and declarations. He'd recalled everything that he'd vaguely registered tumbling from their mouths.

Draco reflected that he had one thing to thank his father for; he, after years of training, was so skilled at pretence that he could blatantly lie to even his closest friends like this and have them not know he was doing so. They happily believed that Potter had joined his friends in kneeling in front of Draco, crazy with lust…

A rush of warmth shot straight to his crotch at the mere thought of it, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Oh, no. Not again.

Draco was in denial, and had been ever since he'd fled Potter's carriage. He would not allow himself to realise it, he would not even let himself believe it, because there wasn't anything to realise or believe…

"Hey Draco," Pansy interrupted his thoughts, "I realised it was stupid of us to let you go because you would've been able to find your mate. But anyway, I wanted to ask; did you?" The others stopped talking to listen in.

"Um…" Draco swallowed. The gnawing sensation was no longer in his chest; instead he felt a sense of frustration because his Veela side knew perfectly well who his mate was and where they were and therefore was questioning why on earth he wasn't there with them. "No, Pansy, I didn't find them, but they're definitely on this train." He lied again.

She was eyeing him with slight suspicion now. "That gnawing feeling you keep complaining about? It hasn't gotten worse?" she questioned.

"No."

She raised a dark eyebrow, clearly sceptical but willing to go along with him for the moment. "Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Yes." He said softly. "Yes, it is."

HPDM

With a gentle hiss, the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, belching steam as it did so. The usual mad scramble ensued in the compartments and carriages as the students secured their luggage and owls and piled out onto the rain-drenched platform with their friends.

"Firs' years, over here! Firs' years, this way!"

The bellowing voice of Hagrid echoed over the heads of the milling students. Harry felt his heart lift despite his worries at the sound, and he returned Hagrid's brief wave of greeting as he and Neville navigated through the crowd. Ron and Hermione, like the other prefects, were assisting in the general supervision of the madness, so Harry and Neville were each carrying Pig and Crookshanks in addition to their own belongings.

Harry and Neville squeezed through whatever gaps they could manage to find in the crowd, and Harry picked up snatches of conversation of those he passed.

"…so gorgeous, I don't know what he did to himself over the holidays but whatever it was, it worked!"

"…Potter hasn't said anything to anyone as far as anyone knows, but he was always really private about those things…"

"…did you hear Morgana, how she was insisting that she's going to be the one to marry Draco Malfoy? As if he would, he deserves someone so much prettier, honestly, he's so gorgeous…"

Harry gritted his teeth and kept his head down. Even if no one else knew what had happened in the carriage, Malfoy still seemed to be a favourite talking point of the students.

The pair finally reached the rough mud truck at the other end of the platform, where the mass of stagecoaches awaited the students. Harry and Neville only looked once at the Thestrals that pulled them before glancing away; they were an uncomfortable reminder of events from their fifth year. Harry and Neville managed to get all the things they were carrying into one of the nearer carriages; at that moment, Ron and Hermione turned up.

"Alright there, mate?" Harry said, grinning, as Ron helped Hermione up into the coach, cheeks aflame. Ron spared Harry a mock glare before clambering in himself and shutting the door.

At once, the tiny carriage began to move; the long procession of coaches began their trundle up to the gates of Hogwarts.

Harry settled against the wall, breathing in the familiar scent of straw that was always present in these coaches, only half listening to his friends' conversation as he thought of Malfoy and the mystery that was already forming before they had even gotten to the Great Hall.

Eventually the coaches trundled through the gates of Hogwarts, flanked as they always were with stone columns topped with statues of winged boars. They made their slow way up the long, sloping drive leading to the doors, and finally came to a halt outside the steps leading up to the castle.

They piled out, leaving their belongings in the carriage, and hurried through the rain up the stone steps. It was while this was happening that Harry first felt the burning of two eyes staring into him from behind. He hunched his shoulders instinctively and led the way inside, telling himself to ignore it.

Outside, Draco watched Potter disappear inside, feeling positively miserable at the sight of the Gryffindor walking away from him, despite the distance between them. He shook his head determinedly; none of that. He raised his chin and motioned to his friends, who all fell quickly into line and followed him towards the castle; a Veela in denial he may be, but it was still necessary to show to the other students the level of respect he commanded.

They arrived in the Great Hall, whose enchanted ceiling currently depicted the dark grey clouds that were outside. The light from the floating candles in the room flickered on the walls and showed the masses of students who were filing into their respective house tables below.

Draco and his friends walked to the Slytherin table on the far left of the Hall; as expected, their usual places had been left empty for them. They took their seats, and Draco, with thudding heart, sought for a head of messy dark hair at the table on the opposite side of the Hall, but before he could locate the boy, the doors of the Great Hall swung open, and Professor McGonagall entered, followed by two lines of terrified looking first years.

The new students lined up in front of the High Table, all wide eyes and shaky legs. Draco felt his heart skip a beat and a churning sensation erupt in his stomach as he finally located who he was looking for; Potter, sitting between the Mudblood and Longbottom, his brow furrowed as he looked at the first years.

_Oh, honestly. _Draco scoffed at himself, _I'm surely not that desperate. _But yet he was finding it hard to look away from the Gryffindor now he'd located him; only when the Sorting Hat, having been brought in and placed on its stool, began to sing, did he finally tear his eyes away.

"There was a time, long ago  
When I was unpatched and new  
That the Founders Four of our fair school  
Decided what to do  
For they wished to have a place  
Where young wizards might  
Learn the ways of our world  
But it came to light  
That each had their own ideas  
For qualities pupils would possess,  
And it was this that caused arguing  
And very much distress.  
T'was Gryffindor who solved it  
He pulled me off his head  
And spelled me to be able  
To do the job instead  
It is my job to sort you  
Into the houses four  
Yet sometimes I do wonder  
If I should do it anymore.  
For the Gryffindors will be brave,  
Like Godric used to be  
And Hufflepuffs will always  
Exhibit loyalty  
The Ravenclaws will use their wits  
In order to get far  
And the Slytherins will have ambition  
Just like Salazar  
But still I fear this duty  
Of dividing the youth  
Will always stop the houses  
From knowing the truth  
Stand together, I advise  
And set aside your hate  
Only then will Hogwarts be saved  
From a truly disastrous fate."

The Hall rang with the applause of the students as the Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four tables and then fell silent again. A few murmurs spread throughout the tables as the students discussed what the hat had said, but a look from Professor McGonagall shut them up.

"When I call your name," Professor McGonagall said, addressing the first-years now that silence had been secured, "You will come up to the stool and put the hat on your head to be sorted into your house." She cleared her throat. "Argent, Ellen!"

A small dark-haired girl stumbled out of the line and to the stool; she only had the Sorting Hat on her head for five seconds when its brim opened wide and it yelled, "Hufflepuff!"

The table next to Gryffindor's exploded with cheers and applause as Ellen took the hat off and joined her new house.

The sorting passed a little faster than expected; less new students than usual were present. Finally, 'Zwanzig, Chloe' was sorted into Slytherin, and Dumbledore rose from his seat at the High Table.

He spread his arms out as though wishing to embrace them all, the candlelight flickering on his long silver beard and golden-starred robes. He smiled warmly.

"Welcome all, new faces and old, to another year at Hogwarts!"

A ripple of shock swept through the students as they looked more closely for the first time at his left hand – it was charred and black. Draco rather thought that it looked like it had died. The cry of 'What happened to his _hand_?' could be heard all over the Great Hall.

He merely smiled and lowered his arms, so that his hand was not visible anymore. "No matter." He said cheerfully. "Just a small injury, nothing to be concerned about. Now, I will not keep you any further from your dinner. Tuck in!"

There was scattered applause and the students bent their heads together at once to discuss Dumbledore's hand as the glittering golden plates before them filled with vast amounts of food.

"Wonder what really did happen to it?" Ron said, frowning up at the High Table even as he piled his plate high with lamb chops. "I've never seen something like that before."

"There are some curses that never fade." Hermione put in. "Maybe it's something like that. But I have to agree, it doesn't look particularly pleasant."

Harry poked absently at his food. He could feel two eyes burning into him from across the Hall. _Whatever is going on, I will not aggravate it by looking at him. _He told himself.

It was this attitude that had Draco, across the Hall at the Slytherin table, wanting to kick something.

"Draco, darling?" Pansy enquired, waving a hand in front of his face. "What is the matter with you? You haven't touched your food. Who are you staring at anyway?" she twisted around in her seat to gaze carefully out over the sea of students Draco was facing.

_Shit. _Draco winced inwardly. He hadn't meant to stare, honestly, but once the feast had begun he'd found his gaze drawn to Potter again, and despite the growls of hunger in his stomach he'd found it difficult to care. He'd have to be more careful if he wanted to keep this a secret.

"No-one, Pansy dear." He said as dismissively as he could, reaching for the nearest bowl of roast potatoes. Pansy exchanged glances with the others, whom all shrugged back to her. Clearly, they also realised their Veela friend was keeping something from them.

"Just look at everybody trying not to drool on themselves looking at you." Blaise remarked, changing the topic and gesturing with amusement to the students nearby, who were indeed openly staring at Draco, some with their mouths hanging wide open.

"One of the perks of your powers, I guess." Nott observed. "You become irresistible to everyone."

"Not everyone." Draco pointed out. "You guys don't find me irresistible."

"Because we've been friends with you long enough that the idea is sickening." Goyle mumbled around a mouthful of roast beef.

"Hear hear." Crabbe said fervently beside him, setting down his goblet.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Really? That's why you guys haven't tried to jump me yet?"

There were nods all around. "Basically, yeah." Blaise confirmed.

"We have our own romantic interests, darling." Pansy smiled. "And anyway, you may look pretty, but you're awfully cranky most of the time. Not terribly attractive in a future partner."

"Besides," Nott added, "you'll only be interested in your mate, so it's not like we'll get anything from you."

"Speaking of which," Pansy said in a low voice, "can you sense them? Everyone in Hogwarts is meant to be here, so you should be able to."

Draco hesitated. No point lying at this point. "Yes, I can." He said. "But no-one else at Hogwarts knows about my…heritage, besides all of you, and it wouldn't look good to find them and woo them right here, where everyone can see."

His friends nodded in understanding. "So, when will you find them and woo them?" Blaise asked.

"Erm…when I run into them, I guess." Draco said evasively.

Pansy looked suspicious again. "You were practically wetting yourself at the idea of finding them on the train." She said. "And now you say you'll 'find them when you run into them?'"

"Pansy." He said warningly. "Drop it. Please. I don't want to talk about it anymore."

She raised her eyebrows and put her hands up in a gesture of defeat. "Alright, alright, be that way." She said. "We won't talk about it anymore."

Conversation resumed, and still Draco couldn't stop himself from the urge to look at a certain dark-haired boy at the Gryffindor table across the Hall.

HPDM

It was a while later, when the plates were empty apart from the final crumbs of dessert, when Hermione gave the High Table a proper scrutinising glance and realised something.

"Hey," she said, leaning forward, "does anyone else notice that someone's missing up there?"

The others turned to frown at the High Table. Right on one end was Hagrid, bigger than everyone else as usual, drinking deeply from his goblet with hands the size of dustbin lids. Beside him was the tiny figure of Professor Flitwick, followed by Professors Sprout and McGonagall. In the centre of the table was Dumbledore. On his other side sat Professors Sinistra and Snape, the wizened old wizard who taught Arithmacy and Ancient Runes, and finally Professor Trelawney, looking rather curious in the way she appeared to be muttering to herself. There was, however, a noticeably empty seat between Professor Sprout and McGonagall.

"Where's the new Defence teacher?" Ron said, confused. "You'd think they would be here by now."

"Defence teachers have been late in the past." Seamus joined in the conversation. "Maybe something held them up."

The others had barely even conceded to this before up at the High Table, Dumbledore got to his feet and signalled for silence, which prevailed immediately.

"Now that we are all delightfully full, I shall take the opportunity to make some announcements. First of all, I will advise to our younger students, and those who need reminding, that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to everyone. Mr Filch, our caretaker, has expressed a wish to inform you that any found with a product from the business Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes will be put in detention so fast it will make their head spin."

There were slight titters from the students.

"Students who wish to try-out for their House Quidditch team should give their names to their Heads of House. Prospective commentators should also do likewise."

At that moment the doors to the Great Hall swung open unexpectedly. Every person in the Great Hall swivelled in their seat to look.

Tonks walked in, smiling somewhat sheepishly as she closed the doors again. "Sorry I'm late." She called down the Hall to Dumbledore. "I got held up."

Dumbledore gave a small bow. "No matter. Come, come, join us."

Tonks made her way in between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables towards the High Table. As she did, Harry observed that her hair, rather than being bubblegum-pink as he had last seen it, was a dull brown, and did not appear particularly clean. Her previously sparkly eyes were much less so, and she moved as one with a great deal of care resting on her shoulders.

"What's up with Tonks?" Ron muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"I don't know." Harry murmured back as Tonks took her seat between Sprout and McGonagall.

Dumbledore, who was still standing, clapped his hands to silence the murmurs that were sweeping the Hall. This being done, he beamed at the students.

"I am delighted to announce that this year the Auror, Nymphadora Tonks, shall be taking the position of Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher. Let's give her a warm welcome!"

Applause rang through the hall, quite enthusiastic considering barely any of the students knew Tonks, but as far as they were concerned any teacher that wasn't Umbridge was fine by them. Tonks smiled slightly at the greeting.

"That will do." Silence fell once more in the Hall. "Well, that is all of note to tell you, and I know you would all love to go to your beds. So, goodnight!"

A deafening scraping filled the air as the hundreds of students pushed back the benches and began to file towards the doors, chatting excitedly.

Harry considered his chances of getting Malfoy on his own to confront him; however, the blonde was flanked by his friends and absolutely surrounded by a crowd of gawking admirers, and thus he thought that perhaps he could confront Malfoy tomorrow.

_Tomorrow. _He promised himself as he and his friends finally made it to the Grand Staircase. _I'll find everything out tomorrow._

HPDM

Draco had barely even reached the blank stretch of wall marking the entrance to the Slytherin common room before Snape was upon him.

"I want a word, Draco. Now."

The other students stared as Snape swept away back towards his office, and Draco, realising he had no choice, followed, past the long line of still-gawking Slytherins that stretched up the corridor.

"What are you looking at?" he snarled at a particularly blatant fourth-year girl, who jumped in surprise. As he kept going, he could've sworn he heard her whisper excitedly to her friends, 'He _talked _to me!' Sneering, Draco pushed on.

At last they came to the darkly wooded door that was the entrance to Snape's office. Snape opened the door and gestured Draco inside. Ignoring the jars of bizarre and downright disgusting ingredients on the shelves, Draco took the seat opposite Snape's desk.

The door snapped closed and Snape crossed the room to sit behind his desk, where he levelled Draco with a stare.

The last thing in the world Draco felt like doing was talking to Snape, but he'd been raised to be polite, and so he offered a cool smile and a, "Good evening, Professor. I trust you are well?"

Snape looked displeased. "Drop the Malfoy ice, Draco." He said. "There is no place for it in my office."

The coolly polite smile slid off Draco's face like Stinksap. He scowled at the Potions master. "Fine." He snapped.

"Good." Snape cleared his throat. "As you are no doubt aware, Draco, I have been asked to keep an eye on you under your current…conditions, as it were, by your mother."

"Yes, my Mother." Draco leaned back in his chair and smiled at the faint flush that had swept Snape's cheeks. "Being a good friend, aren't you, Severus?"

"I have told you before that you should address me as you would any other teacher." Snape said coldly. However, he couldn't hide the embarrassment that flickered in his dark eyes at Draco's words. "Now, hold your tongue."

Draco smirked and fell silent.

"I thought the odds of you coming straight to me were poor, and so I decided to have this little meeting." Snape drummed his long fingers together. "Have you sensed your mate?"

_Crap._ "…Yes."

"Do you know who they are?"

Draco summoned every skill he possessed at Occlumency as he looked blandly into Snape's dark eyes. "No, sir, not as of yet."

Snape studied him for a moment, and then heaved a small sigh. "You are lying." He said quietly. "Whomever it is displeases you, and so you deny it."

"No, I don't!" Draco protested, and then quieted. "I mean, sir, you can't possibly know that."

"I am better at reading people than most, Draco, and I have known you for a long time." Snape said dismissively. I cannot force you, I suppose, to tell me their identity, but I can offer you advice." He stared hard at Draco for a moment.

"There have been Veela in the past who have found their mate to be someone they despise. However, it didn't take long for them to realise their old prejudices had no base and no staying power when pitted against the power of the Veela." He leaned forward. "Do not fight it, Draco. Whoever it is, they are your mate for a reason. I suggest you think about that."

Draco glared at Snape, hating the feeling of not being the one in control in the situation.

Snape sighed. "If you must fight it, Draco, try not to for too long. It will be detrimental to your wellbeing. I take it you've already completed the first stage of eye contact. Merlin help you if you try to resist the rest."

Draco scowled. Stupid Snape, telling him what to do, when he didn't realise how bad this situation was. Nonetheless, he nodded. "Yes, sir. Thank you for your advice."

"It is fine, Draco." Snape waved a hand dismissively and stood up. Draco stood as well. "Come, I must give the customary initiation speech to the first-years."

Draco obediently followed his Head of House all the way back to the common room. He quickly escaped the open-mouthed stares of the first-years by fleeing up the stairs, his mind reeling and the two sides of himself arguing furiously.

_TBC_

**AN: Alrighty! Hope you liked that. Btw, canon in that Tonks is a bit depressed coz Moony won't be with her. But in that state she'll have a lot of love advice to offer the boys, should they want it. :P**

**What are these stages of bonding? What do they entail, and what's going to happen to Draco should he refuse them? Ah, you'll have to wait to find out the answers, I'm afraid. **

**This weekend I will not be updating, as it's the weekend before the final week of school and I've got some assignments to do. Following that, however, is my two-week holiday! Yay! So expect some more updates during that. **

**Thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**Bleedingxheart**


	10. Two Steps Down

**AN: Hello! Thanks very much to everyone who reviewed! I outdid my own obsessiveness and created colour-coded timetables for both Harry and Draco, just so I know what's what. They do have some similar free periods, however, I have scheduled a bit for them to have some time apart. Anyway, here's Chapter 10, as promised.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Ten – Two Steps Down, Two More To Go

Monday, September 2nd

'_The bonding process between a Veela and its mate is a set process that all Veela and their mates experience. The bonding process begins with the first step, eye contact, where the Veela subconsciously releases their Allure to try and attract their mate. As a general rule, all Veela complete this step during the bonding process._

_The next step is physical contact. This can range from anything as innocent as a touch of hands to a kiss. This step begins the formation of the 'body' segment of the bond between the Veela and its mate._

_The third step is a verbal acceptance of the mate to the Veela. The wording of such acceptance does not matter, as long as acceptance is implied. This step begins the formation of the 'soul' segment of the bond between the Veela and its mate._

_The fourth step is sexual consummation of the relationship between the Veela and its mate. This cements both the body and soul segments of the bond, and with this final step the bond is complete. Interestingly, several different accounts from Veela have noted that the mutual expression of the words 'I love you' between the Veela and the mate at any point after this fourth step will help to further strengthen the bond._

_Once the first step of the bond has been taken, the Veela will experience urges to complete the next three steps until they are done. The nature of what the urges entail varies from Veela to Veela, but it has been proven that the longer the period of time that passes between bonding stages is, the stronger the urges will become._

_Veela are creatures of love, and if the only reason why bonding steps are not being completed is at the wish of the mate, the Veela will likewise force themselves to be patient for the benefit of their mate. However, active resistance on the part of the Veela is detrimental to their wellbeing, to the point that the Veela may even eventually drive themselves insane trying to resist the urge to complete the bonding steps, and in extreme cases, even kill themselves in an effort to escape the urge. However, this has happened very rarely in history.'_

_Wonderful. _Draco thought, closing the book with a snap. _If I fight this, I might go insane._

He yawned and stretched slowly. It was approximately 7:00am in the morning of the first day of term, and Draco had already been awake for an hour. He'd already made sure he was showered, styled and dressed immaculately, and was now waiting for his friends to wake and get out of bed.

Right on cue, Blaise's alarm clock (A snake, charmed to hiss loudly) sounded throughout the room. Draco listened in amusement as Blaise swore. There was a rustle, and then the hissing stopped, before Blaise himself emerged from his bed.

"Fuck." Blaise blinked and rubbed his face, squinting at Draco. "Morning, Draco. You're up early."

Draco inclined his head. "Good morning. Yes, I know. I couldn't sleep."

Blaise nodded understandingly, as Crabbe, Goyle and Nott all emerged from their beds, yawning.

"Good morning, everyone." Draco said, eyebrow raised slightly in amusement at the appearance of the other boys.

"Shut up." Nott mumbled. "We'll be presentable in a bit, give us a break."

Draco smirked as his friends all gathered their towels and disappeared into the bathroom. Left alone, Draco swivelled in his chair back towards his desk, eyeing his book on Veela, frowning. All things considered, he was distinctly nervous about classes today, primarily because he was bound to have at least one, if not all, of them with Potter, and he just didn't know how he'd handle being around the Gryffindor after the incident on the train.

_I've already completed the first stage of the bonding process. _Draco mused. _We made eye contact. It's already started._

_But what if I don't care? _Draco's 'Malfoy' side argued back. _I can't spend the rest of my life with Potter, I just can't._

Draco balled his hands into fists, squeezing as hard as he could to vent the frustration. Snape already suspected something. His friends suspected something, and Merlin knew eventually his mother would suspect something. He'd read enough to know that fighting this thing wouldn't help anybody, especially himself.

_I'll just take it one day at a time, _he reasoned to himself. _I'll see how I go today, and then maybe re-evaluate tonight._

With a sigh, he stood and went to check on his things while he waited for his friends to be ready.

HPDM

"…can't wait to see how many free periods we've got." Ron was saying as he, Harry and Hermione walked into the Great Hall. "It'll be great, seniors in the school get free periods."

"But they won't be bludge periods, Ronald." Hermione pointed out as they passed the Hufflepuff table and headed up the Gryffindor table. "We'll need them for study, I expect, because the workload is going to increase now."

"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" Ron remarked as they took their seats halfway along the Gryffindor table.

"I'm only being realistic!" Hermione defended herself. "Because the fact is, if we want to get the jobs we want, we're going to have to work extra hard to be prepared for our N.E.W.T.s."

"Yeah, but those are two years away!" Ron said carelessly, pouring himself some pumpkin juice. "What's the use of thinking about them now?"

They were saved Hermione's rebuttal by the arrival of the morning post. Hermione paid a single bronze knut to the owl that delivered her copy, and then unfolded it and disappeared behind it.

Harry chewed on his toast, looking at the newspaper and thinking. Since the incident at the Department of Mysteries, the Daily Prophet had stopped trying to make him seem like a liar, because any attempt at that would be plain stupid. Instead, they ran pieces concerning the existence of the prophecy and speculation over what his role was in same prophecy, as well as reports on the continuous run of funny disappearances all over the country.

"They're holding the memorial for Madam Bones this Friday." Hermione said quietly, lowering the newspaper to point out the article.

Ron and Harry leaned forward, scanning the small piece quickly. Harry glanced up and over to the Hufflepuff table, where Susan Bones was sitting, looking very morose, and eating her breakfast slowly.

"Poor thing." Ron said, following Harry's gaze.

"First DA meeting this weekend." Harry said suddenly, making up his mind. "Saturday night, 7:00."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances and then nodded. They knew Harry had spurred into action because of the reminder of Voldemort, and what he was doing to their classmates and their families.

"I'll set the Galleon." Harry said, "But I want it known that anyone who wishes to come, can. Spread the word."

"We will, Harry." Hermione assured him. "But for now, you should really eat some breakfast."

"Right." Harry said distractedly, taking another bite out of his toast without even tasting it.

At that moment, Malfoy and his friends entered the Hall. Harry chewed slowly, following their entrance with narrowed eyes. Oh yes, he would be having a word with Malfoy today.

When it was closer to 9 o' clock Professor McGonagall got up from the High Table and began making her way along the Gryffindor Table, passing out class schedules.

Eventually, she reached Harry and his friends. "Now, let's see your applications." She said, taking them and looking at each in turn. "Charms, Herbology, Defence Against The Dark Arts, Transfiguration…all fine." She looked at Harry seriously. "Congratulations on your Transfiguration mark by the way, Potter. But why haven't you applied to take Potions? If I remember correctly, your ambition was to be an Auror?"

"It was, Professor." Harry said, "but you told me Professor Snape only takes students who have achieved an Oustanding in their OWL."

"So he did," McGonagall said, "except over the holidays, the educational aspects of the school were investigated and reviewed by the Ministry. It was decided that such a strict entry for N.E.W.T level Potions was no longer feasible under the circumstances, and so the mandatory grade for entry has dropped to an E."

Harry could only stare at her.

"Do you wish to continue with Potions?" she asked him.

He shook himself and nodded. "Yes, I would, Professor."

"Very well." She tapped a blank schedule with her wand and then handed it to him, now filled with the details of his classes.

"Incidentally, there is already a list of individuals who wish to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team." She said to Harry. "I'll pass it on to you in due course, and you can set the trials at your leisure."

"Oh, er, right." Harry said, somewhat taken aback. "Thanks."

She nodded to him and turned to Ron, and soon cleared him to do the same subjects as Harry. She quickly cleared Hermione as well to do her seven subjects after only a brief glance down her OWL results, and offered a rare smile as she handed over Hermione's newly filled timetable.

"What have we got first?" Ron scrutinised his own once McGonagall had moved further down the table. "Double Transfiguration." He answered himself, with a slight sigh. "Well, we better get going, if we aren't there when McGonagall's finished all this timetable stuff she'll have our heads."

It was a good point, and so Harry and Hermione followed Ron in hurriedly gathering their things and then setting off for the Transfiguration classroom. They arrived outside the classroom at exactly 9 o' clock, as the bell sounded throughout the school to indicate the start of lessons.

The NEWT level Transfiguration class consisted of a mixture of students from all four houses. Generally, house segregation no longer applied in sixth and seventh year. Harry, Ron and Hermione took their seats towards the front of the classroom, but not before Harry had noticed Malfoy was in the class, and what's more, that he was staring straight at Harry.

Gritting his teeth slightly, Harry kept himself facing resolutely to the front, ignoring the feeling of two eyes burning into the back of his head.

Professor McGonagall entered not much later.

"That will do." She said primly, and silence fell over the students at once.

She sat down behind her desk and looked seriously around at them all through her square spectacles. "You have all managed to achieve the required standard in your OWL examinations." She stated. "Congratulations, first of all. That means you are all adept enough in this subject to study it in a much more advanced, NEWT level capacity. And I warn you, NEWT Transfiguration is most definitely more difficult to master than what you have previously experienced. I believe, however, that all of you have the capacity to succeed if you apply yourselves."

Hermione was sitting to attention, looking desperate for an opportunity to do just that. Harry laughed to himself. Teacher's pet through and through.

"…utmost importance to your futures." McGonagall was saying. "Now then, enough talk, let us begin. Copy this down, please…"

They all took out parchment, quills and ink and copied down the theory notes McGonagall wrote out on the blackboard for making an inanimate object become animated. Once this was done she lectured them briefly on the theory, and then passed around a box of plain silver plates for them to practise on.

Hermione successfully caused her plate to animate on her third go, earning her ten points to Gryffindor. She now sat and watched as Harry and Ron attempted.

Ron stared hard at his plate; eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and waved his wand. "Animatus!" he half-yelled, but nothing happened.

"It's not so much of a wave, it's more of a hard flick." Hermione said critically.

Ron muttered something back along the lines of "I'll flick you in a minute." As the two descended into bickering, Hermione saying that Ron was juvenile, Harry stared determinedly at his plate, gearing himself up for his fifth attempt, trying to ignore the eyes that he could still feel burning into the back of his head.

"Animatus!" he said clearly, flicking his wand hard as Hermione had said.

Suprisingly, his plate quivered and immediately began sliding along the desk of its own accord; Ron and Hermione ceased arguing to watch. Fearful that the plate would go over the edge and break, Harry hurriedly grabbed it; it squirmed unhappily in his hand, clearly wanting to move.

"Well done, Mr Potter!" McGonagall said as she walked past, noticing Harry's plate moving. "Take ten points for Gryffindor as well."

"Well done, Harry!" Seamus and Dean enthused from the other side of the room.

"Thanks," Harry replied, feeling bewildered. He'd never gotten a spell in Transfiguration so quickly before. Ron and Hermione looked equally thunderstruck.

"Mate, how did you do that?" Ron whispered to him.

"Dunno." Harry murmured back. "It just…worked."

"Why is this picture so familiar?" The sneer sounded from the back of the classroom. Ron and Hermione both swivelled in their seats, but Harry hunched his shoulders, teeth gritted.

"Head of Gryffindor house, giving points to Gryffindors." Malfoy continued with a sneer. "Now I know why it's so familiar."

"Shove off, Malfoy." Ron retorted angrily. "Harry and Hermione earned those points fair and square!"

Malfoy sneered again. "Of course." He said patronizingly.

Having had enough, Harry spun around in his seat, glaring at the Slytherin. "Shut up, Malfoy." He said angrily. "We don't need your shit."

Oddly, Malfoy seemed to have frozen to his seat as he stared at Harry. Harry felt all the more angry, wondering what Malfoy was playing at, and was opening his mouth to ask just that when McGonagall reached the back row, having sensed the tension building in the room.

"Malfoy, Potter, that's enough." She said sharply. "Back to work, all of you. Yes, that means you, Mr Weasely." She added warningly to Ron, who looked for all the world like he didn't want to turn back around.

Ron scowled and reluctantly obliged. Harry threw one last confused look to Malfoy, who was still staring at him, and turned back around as well.

HPDM

After Transfiguration ended Harry, Ron and Hermione all had a free period. Harry hung back after class, wanting to confront Malfoy, but Malfoy hurried away before Harry could say anything. Waving away his best friends' enquiries, they set out for Gryffindor Tower.

"I wanted to ask, Harry," Hermione began hesitantly as they walked along a long corridor lined with portraits of wizards and witches who waved to them as they passed, "have you experienced a sudden ability recently with your magic, other than what just happened?"

Harry frowned. "No, that's the first time I've used magic in a bit, and I've never been able to do a Transfiguration task that quickly before."

"That's what I thought." Hermione lapsed into silence as they pulled aside a tapestry of Edgar the Eager and began climbing the secret staircase behind it.

When they'd emerged onto the next floor, Hermione spoke again. "I can't help but think it's connected in some way to what's been happening to you." She said. "With the dreams, and the incident at Diagon Alley. It can't be coincidence, strange things keep happening to you."

"Don't forget on the train as well." Ron piped up. "It only happened to the people on the carriage Harry was on."

Hermione looked momentarily taken back, and then smiled at Ron. "Yes, Ron, exactly. That too."

The tips of Ron's ears turned red, and he muttered something incomprehensible. Harry grinned despite himself as they climbed yet another staircase, but sobered up fairly quickly. "So you think everything's connected, and it all has something to do with me?" he asked.

Hermione nodded. "It's a logical guess, although what is happening, and why, I'm not sure. I'll have to do some more research."

Harry was silent as they finally reached the corridor leading to the common room portrait. He knew the information he had about Malfoy's involvement during the incident on the train would be important for Hermione's research, but he couldn't bring himself to tell them about it. Whatever way he put it, it would still end up sounding they had lost their minds at the sight of Malfoy, and that he himself had experienced that same lust with conscious awareness of whom it was directed towards, and the idea was too mortifying to even consider.

He had had the dream again last night, only it had changed slightly. The bright white light by the rock pool had sounded like it was murmuring to him, murmuring things he couldn't hear. Why this was, Harry didn't know. He supposed he'd have to ask Hermione at some point.

"Leo Vox." Ron spoke the password to the Fat Lady, who smiled warmly at them.

"Lion Power indeed." She said, and swung forward to let them in. They climbed in, and then took up their positions in their favourite chairs near the fire. The common room was nearly empty apart from a few of their fellow sixth-years, including Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

They spent their free period doing the homework McGonagall had set them for Wednesday, which turned out to require such thorough answers that they had only just finished when the bell rang for the next class to begin, which for Harry and Ron was Charms and for Hermione was Ancient Runes. They waved goodbye to Hermione at the turnoff for the corridor leading to the Ancient Runes classroom, and continued on for Charms down on the second-floor.

HPDM

"I suppose you've decided to just not bother telling me what that was all about in Transfiguration before?" Pansy questioned dryly.

Draco winced inwardly. Shit. They'd spent the free period in the library, and now he and Pansy were heading for their Ancient Runes class on the fourth floor of the castle. He'd noticed that she'd had a strange look in her eye the entire period, and he supposed this was his punishment for trying to keep secrets from his friends.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Pansy." He lied.

"Bullshit." She snorted. "You know perfectly well. You completely froze up when Potter turned around, don't think I didn't notice. The others might not be able to read you, but I can."

Damn Pansy and her inexplicable skill. "It was nothing." He said as dismissively as he could. "I just forgot myself for a moment, that's all."

"I thought a Malfoy never forgets himself, as he is always perfectly composed and in control of every situation?" Pansy said with a smirk.

"Ideally, yes, but in exceptional circumstances, allowances can be made." He shot back coolly.

"Exceptional circumstances, huh?" Pansy scoffed. "Well, I think I've finally solved this little mystery, Draco, when your exceptional circumstances involve being in the middle of a Veela bonding process with Harry P-"

She was cut off by Draco flinging a hand over her mouth and pulling her to the nearest wall.

"Don't say another word." He hissed. "I can't have you shouting it all over the castle."

Pansy's blue eyes widened, and Draco sighed in defeat. "Yes, you're right, you figured it out. It's Potter. Potter's my mate."

Pansy pulled his hand away from her mouth and rubbed her arm, which smarted from the crushing grip Draco had employed on it. "You didn't have to be so violent, darling."

"Actually, I did, because I can't run the risk of anyone overhearing this." Draco hissed, glancing around as he did so. They were right near the Ancient Runes classroom now. "You are the only person in the school who knows, and I'd like to keep it that way."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to tell the others?"

"I didn't want them, or you, to know!" Draco snarled quietly. "I wanted to deal with this on my own!"

"And just how did you think that was going to work?" Pansy whispered irritably. "If you resist him, you'll go insane within the year."

"I _know, _but forgive me if I find the idea of spending the rest of my life with Potter after hating him for so long a tad disconcerting!" Draco snapped.

Pansy merely rolled her eyes. "Look, we have to get to class, so we'll talk about it at break. Now get in there and act like you're just the nice, normal, absurdly attractive pure-blooded ice prince that everyone believes you are, and save the melodrama for later."

Draco audibly snarled. "That is not funny, Parkinson."

"Oh yes it is, _Malfoy. _Merlin, come on, just go!"

And so the pair entered the classroom looking unruffled and coolly intimidating, as always.

HPDM

Fifty minutes later, the pair emerged from the classroom as the hallways filled with students excited about break.

"Where do you want to go to talk about it?" Pansy asked him.

Draco shrugged irritably. The damn Veela urges telling him to find his mate were pissing him off. "Wherever, I don't particularly care." He said dismissively.

They were on their way to the library when they ran into Blaise and Theo.

"Hey Pansy, Veela-boy." Theo greeted them.

Draco glared furiously at the somewhat weedy-looking boy. "Shut your face, Theo."

"Touchy, aren't we?" Blaise remarked wryly. "Where are you two headed?"

Pansy and Draco exchanged looks. "We were…on the way to one of the break classrooms." Pansy lied swiftly.

"Alright then, let's go." Blaise said, grabbing Theo's arm and dragging him into a side passage. Having no choice, Pansy mouthed to Draco, _we'll talk about it next free period. _Draco inclined his head to show he'd understood, and they followed their friends along the passage.

"It's a shame you're not doing Charms this year, Veela-boy." Theo said over his shoulder. "We got quite a show just then in class."

"Don't call me that." Draco snarled threateningly, while Pansy frowned, confused.

"What do you mean, Theo?"

"He means," Blaise put in with a touch of asperity, "that in Charms just then Potter knocked everyone's socks off."

"What?" Draco jumped at the mention of the dreaded name, nearly frantic as he stared at Blaise. "What happened? What did Potter do?"

"Merlin, calm down, would you?" Blaise said. "Flitwick was getting us to start practising the Aguamenti charm, right, and when Potter did it, it wasn't just a jet of water, it was an explosion of water, and it pinned Flitwick to the board before someone had the sense to do a Finite Incantatem and call it off."

"An explosion of water?" Pansy echoed.

"Yeah, like, instead of your average stream of water, it was like a full on gush of water, like an extremely powerful jet."

"Huh." Pansy frowned. "Weird. Potter's never been _that _good at Charms."

"And even then, when you get a spell first go like that, it's not meant to be that extreme." Theo put in. "Which makes me think, maybe his magic is malfunctioning, or something."

Draco gulped inaudibly. Shit. Whatever was happening to Potter and his magic, he was willing to bet it had something to do with the whole Veela business.

"Maybe. What does it matter, though?" Draco said as dismissively as he could. "It just means that Potter is the inept fool we always knew he was." The others laughed at this, nodding in agreement.

They arrived in one of the 'break' classrooms, as the students referred to the empty classrooms that were perceived to be the better for spending the duration of break. Draco changed the topic as quickly as he could, vowing to himself as the conversation started up again to do some research that night about what could be going on with his mate's…erm, _Potter's _magic.

HPDM

"Maybe you just shouldn't do any magic at all, Harry." Hermione said worriedly as they descended the stone steps leading to the dungeons of the castle.

"I could've figured that out for myself, thanks." Harry said dryly.

"Seriously, mate, something fishy is going on." Ron said from Harry's other side. "I mean, since when have you been able to do spells so easily?"

"And to such an extent, as well, judging from what you told me." Hermione put in. "That, coupled with the change in your dream…we really need to do some research. I can't think of anything that could answer for all the strange things that have happened. Maybe one or two, but not all of them together."

"Yeah, well, it's just your standard first term of Hogwarts." Harry commented wearily. "Weird stuff always happens to me."

The other two said nothing – this was beyond dispute.

They arrived at the Potions classroom only to find the door already open. They walked inside, and Harry was met with the glowing silver eyes of Draco Malfoy, who was facing the classroom door and staring straight at him. Harry stopped in his tracks, feeling like he has just run straight into a concrete wall, so startling was that gaze, and he noticed again how very attractive Malfoy had become, with such beautiful hair and ethereally pale skin…

"Harry, what are you doing?" Ron had looked back and seen Harry just standing there near the doorway, and had gone back to him. He grabbed Harry's arm and tugged. "Come on!"

Reluctantly, Harry looked away from that silvery gaze and allowed himself to be dragged, not hearing the angry growl that emitted from Malfoy's throat upon this.

The classroom slowly filled up, although there were noticeably less people than usual – only twelve people had managed to make it into NEWT level Potions. Besides the trio and Malfoy, there was Parkinson, Zabini, Nott, four Ravenclaws and Ernie Macmillan.

Harry and Ron took a table together, whilst Ernie followed Hermione to her table. Everyone had just settled in when the door to the left behind Snape's table banged open, and Professor Snape himself stalked in, long black robes flapping around him as he moved to the front of the classroom.

"Silence." He sneered, but there was no need; the class had already fallen silent upon his entrance. His black eyes glittered in Harry's direction, and the sneer on his face became even more pronounced.

"Well, thanks to the wishes of the Ministry I have considerably more students in this class than I wished, however…" he looked away from Harry and trailed his eyes over the rest of the students, "…there is nothing that can be done about it, and so there is no point wishing otherwise."

There was a short pause as Snape surveyed their desks.

"Well, get your things out!" he snapped. "Has five years of magical education not taught you that you are expected to be prepared at the start of the lesson with the appropriate equipment?"

There was a flurry of movement as the students hastily reached into their bags, retrieving scales and potions kits and their copies of _Advanced Potions Making. _Harry and Ron, however, exchanged glances, and then Harry gritted his teeth and raised his hand.

Snape regarded Harry with a curl of his lip. "Yes, Mr Potter, what is it?"

"Ron and I don't have any of the equipment, sir." Harry explained. "We didn't know we would be needing it, you see. We didn't hear about the new law the Ministry passed."

Snape sneered at them. "Well, that is what you get for being too ignorant to keep up with the news." He said in a voice filled with contempt. "Now, let me see, ten points each from Gryffindor, I think, for coming to my class unprepared. You can use spare equipment until you order in your own." He smirked at Harry and then spun and moved towards a corner cupboard, presumably where the required equipment was located.

Sniggers were audible from the two Slytherin tables; Harry shot a glare over to them only to find that Malfoy, rather than joining in the amusement at Gryffindor's latest misfortune, was instead still staring avidly at Harry.

Harry looked right back, confused and bewildered but still somehow unwilling to look away from those beautiful eyes.

A sharp thud brought him back to his senses, and he jumped slightly on his stool and broke the eye contact with Malfoy, looking to the front of him where Snape had just dropped two battered looking copies of _Advanced Potions Making _onto the desk, followed by two sets of tarnished bronze scales.

"Now." Snape swept back to the front of the classroom and stared around at them all. "I will warn you right now that NEWT level Potions making is not anywhere near the level you are used to. I will expect that if you are in this class you will be able to perform to the level expected of you. Those who cannot…" and here he looked straight at Harry, "I suggest that you find another class more suitable for you."

"First of all, let's see how much you know. Who can tell me the name and properties of the most powerful love potion in the world?"

Hermione's hand shot into the air at the desk in front of them, and Harry saw her straining slightly in her seat. Snape made a big show of looking around the classroom for someone else to answer before giving in.

"Very well…Miss Granger?"

"Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in the world. Its main ingredient is a crushed petal of the Rose d'Amour, and it smells differently to different individuals according to what attracts them. It can be recognized by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen."

Snape sneered slightly. "Correct."

He continued with his questioning for most of the period, firing question after question at them about common and obscure potions. When there was fifteen minutes left of the period, he began writing up the theory for the potion they would be making the following day during their double period.

"The Draught of Living Death is a much more complicated potion that you are used to, so I advise paying close attention to this theory." Snape sneered at them as they all wrote feverishly, occasionally leaning towards either side to get a better view of the blackboard. "Anyone who does not complete it satisfactorily will receive a detention. Your homework is to study the theory, the method and the ingredients list. I will point out that if you do not, it will show in your potions making."

"Greasy git." Ron muttered to Harry as they left the classroom a few minutes later, the bell having rung. "And we've got Flitwick's homework as well."

Harry shrugged. "Can't really expect much different from Snape, I guess."

"Yeah, but still." Ron continued to scowl until Hermione caught up with them, at which point he brightened immediately.

"Shall we get to the library, then?" Hermione said by way of greeting. "We could start the research early."

Harry and Ron agreed, and they navigated through the dungeons until they emerged into the Entrance Hall. They had just begun to head for the Grand Staircase when Harry spotted Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson along one side of the room, talking quietly.

"Hold up." Harry said to Hermione and Ron, who pasued and looked at him quizzically. "I want to talk to Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" Ron repeated, as Hermione said, "and do what, Harry, punch him in the face?"

"No, nothing like that." Harry said quickly. "I don't want to fight with him, I just want to have a word with him for a moment, that's all."

Hermione stared at him suspiciously. "Alright." She said finally. "But you better not let it dissolve into a fight, it's only the first day of term and it would hardly look good for you to have gotten into a fight with him already."

"I know, Hermione." Harry said tiredly. "I promise you that I won't. You guys go ahead to the library, I'll catch you up."

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances, and then Ron shrugged. "Whatever, mate. Well, good luck, and we'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you." Harry said, waving to them as they began to ascend the Grand Staircase. Once they were out of sight, he turned and headed to where Malfoy and Parkinson were talking near the wall.

HPDM

"I still say you should just ambush him." Pansy repeated stubbornly. "I mean, come on, as much as he hates you it's hardly disputable that you're the most gorgeous being in the castle. He'd be insane to say no."

"That's the thing, Pansy, I don't _want _to just ambush him and force him to my will." Draco hissed. "If he's my…you know, and we're going to…you know, I'd rather it be because he wants to, and because he…" Draco trailed off, scowling with embarrassment.

Pansy looked at her friend, trying to hold down her own amusement. "Loves you? Cares about you?" she supplied.

Draco closed his eyes for a moment as though praying for strength. "Yes." He whispered.

"Well, that's perfectly understandable, darling. A Veela needs to know that they're loved." Pansy said. "It must be difficult for you, huh, if you have one side of your instincts telling you that you hate Potter, and the other telling you that you love him and should locate and ravish him immediately."

"Right in one, Pansy." Draco said, pained. "That's exactly what's going on."

"Speak of the devil." Pansy said suddenly, and Draco whipped around only to see Potter striding towards them, fire blazing in his eyes. Draco's heart sped up and he felt frozen to the spot, unable to move as his mate moved closer to him.

"Malfoy." Potter greeted as he arrived beside them. 'I want to have a word with you."

_Maintain your persona! _Draco begged himself desperately. _Maintain! _

"What about, Potter?" he managed, in a reasonably cool voice, fighting down the instinct he had been suddenly swept up into, to touch Potter, anywhere, on his face, on his hand, on his neck.

"I'm not saying anything else until she leaves." Potter said, glancing at Pansy pointedly. Pansy huffed, but Draco knew, all of a sudden, that she would indeed abandon him. _Don't! _He pleaded with her silently. _I won't be able to control myself if we're alone!_

"Fine, whatever." Pansy said, flipping her hair. "I'll be in one of the break rooms, Draco." And with that, she walked off.

_Shit. _Draco, wincing inwardly, turned to face Potter again.

"Alright." Potter looked uncomfortable, and was very definitely avoiding Draco's gaze. "I've been wanting to talk to you since last night, Malfoy, and I want you to be honest with me."

Draco was barely listening, suddenly incapable of anything except looking at Potter's mouth, which was so nicely shaped and soft looking.

"On the train yesterday, everyone on my carriage has a blank spot in their memory, because all they can remember is a feeling of overwhelming lust and then nothing." Harry began. "Except me. Because I remember you showed up, and you broke the glass and made my friends go out of their minds with lust, and you…you made me feel it too," Harry mumbled, mortified, "and I also felt…well, never mind, the point is that I want to know what you did to make all that happen, and why I'm the only one who can remember exactly what happened."

Draco did register, however vaguely, what Potter was asking him. If the positions had been reversed he would've wanted to know as well. But he just couldn't tell Potter the truth, he couldn't, because that would mean he'd have to admit to being a Veela and explain that Potter was his mate, and he just _couldn't_.

His Veela side gave another kick, wanting to know why, if his mate was right there, he hadn't attempted the second stage of bonding yet. _No no no no _Draco thought frantically, _I can't, I musn't, I shouldn't…_

_Oh, screw it. _He finally decided, and leaned forwards slowly as though in a dream, his lips meeting Potter's.

At that first moment of contact, a sharp, deep zap shot down his spine and quickly spread through the rest of his body, until it seemed the entirety of his being was alive with the sensation. He gasped against Potter's mouth, and before he knew it he'd grabbed Potter's body and pulled the other boy to him, so they were chest-to-chest, his hands on Potter's waist, in his hair, on his shoulders, unable to stop himself from touching whatever part of the other's body he could find.

Harry, meanwhile, was in a daze. He definitely hadn't expected this reaction to his question, but Merlin, the blonde's lips on his felt so good, so right, that he didn't even want to question it. Everywhere the Slytherin's hands touched left trails of fire on his skin that seemed to seep into his very being, and he thought he'd been turned on on the train but that was nothing compared to this.

Draco could actually feel his magic running down its channels along his arms and to his fingertips, pouring itself onto Potter's – no, Harry's – warm skin. Draco moaned, desperately wanting to deepen the kiss and go further, keep going until this whole thing ended up in a bedroom somewhere and the consummation of their bond followed, and to prove his point he pushed his hips up against Harry's, sending an entirely new overload of sensation through his body.

Unfortunately, it was this action which penetrated through the haze that Harry had been captured by, and he yanked his mouth away from Malfoy's, disentangled himself from those amazing hands and staggered back, gasping.

Draco's entire body mourned the loss of contact, and he reached for his mate, but Harry backed away further, green eyes wide and startled.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Malfoy!" Harry yelled, unable really to do much else.

Neither boy realised that they had attracted an audience; a group of seventh-year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, on their way down to the kitchens to get food, were standing near the Grand Staircase, gaping at the Slytherin and the Gryffindor near the wall.

"Potter…Harry…" Draco couldn't quite comprehend what was happening, all he knew was that the second stage of the bonding process had just happened and now all he wanted was to have his mate in his arms again.

"Don't fucking call me by my first name!" Harry cried, still backing away. "You didn't answer my question about what happened on the train, either! How you could…urgh, I can't believe you did that. Fuck you, Malfoy!" he yelled desperately, and then turned and ran for the Grand Staircase, barrelling past the group of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs and charging up the steps, disappearing in moments.

Draco stood stock still for a moment. His fingertips were still tingling from touching Harry's skin, and he really did officially now have the hard-on of the century. He pulled out his wand, pointed it at his crotch, and murmured, "Erectus Reducio!" At once, the erection became significantly less noticeable, and he was able to snarl, "What are you looking at?" to the group still converged at the bottom of the staircase with some amount of dignity. They scattered, although many still looked at Draco with lust in their eyes as they fled.

Left alone in the Entrance Hall, Draco realised what he needed to do.

Find Pansy. As quickly as humanly possible.

He followed his mate's steps up the Grand Staircase, absently touching his burning lips with trembling fingers as he did so.

_TBC_

**AN: Holy shit, that is a freaking long chapter! Well, I should hope that makes up for the lack of update last weekend, hm?**

**I'm on school holidays now, for two weeks, which hopefully will mean slightly more updates! Hooray! I'm going to need some incentive though, so review and let me know what you think of the new chapter!**

**I wasn't originally going to have them kiss in this one, but lo and behold, it happened. Oh well. I've got some events planned for the next few chapters, I think, so we should be cruising nicely for a while after this. Oh, and just because they kissed does not mean that they'll be consummating the bond within the week. Time and patience, my dears.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	11. Talks and Tonks

**AN: Alright, so we're now 11 chapters in, and I figure it's time I got me a beta. So listen, if you'd like to help me out and beta the chapters as I write them/consider helping me shape the vague, half-formed ideas I have into a workable plot, please apply in a review. Only requirements, I guess, would be that you're online frequently and are able to get back to me quickly, life permitting. **

**Anywho, thanks to all reviewers! I love you guys, you have no idea. Here's chapter 11, in all its unbeta-ed glory!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Eleven – Talks and Tonks

_September 2nd_

EXCLUSIVE: Malfoy Family Shocks Continue!

_The wizarding world has been rocked today with the news that newly divorced Narcissa Black, formerly Mrs Narcissa Malfoy, made an appearance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry yesterday evening for political talks with headmaster Albus Dumbledore. _

_While the exact content of these talks is unknown, a representative of Narcissa stated this morning, 'Ms. Black spoke with Albus Dumbledore about herself and her son's future in the upcoming war, and the results have been very positive.'_

_It has been speculated that Narcissa has decided to switch sides in the upcoming war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and support the Light, and indeed, this move seems to support this theory. Reactions of her ex-husband Lucius Malfoy, or even You-Know-Who himself, are unknown, although it can be surmised that they would not be happy with this seemingly obvious move on behalf of Narcissa Black to the Light side._

'_I always thought there was something fishy about that family,' observed Penny Day, 51, of Bristol. 'But knock me over with a Kneazle, Narcissa's gone and changed my mind about them! If even she is switching sides, that's gotta show You-Know-Who that he's losing support!'_

_Narcissa's son and future heir to the family name, Draco Malfoy, was unable to be reached for comment._

HPDM

_8:30am_

"Severus?" Draco knocked three times on the door leading to Professor Snape's private quarters, in the corner of the Potions classroom. He only had to wait a few seconds before the door swung open, and Snape was standing there, wearing loose black pants and a faded black jumper.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him, and Snape scowled. "What are you doing here, Draco?" He snapped. "You're meant to be at breakfast this time of morning."

"I was at breakfast, until I read the front page of the Daily Prophet and realised my mother paid a visit to the castle last night." Draco said pleasantly. "It seemed logical that you would know where she was, if she's still here. I need to talk to her."

Snape glared at him for a moment, and then muttered, "She's in here, still asleep."

Draco raised both his eyebrows, looking at Snape with a soft smirk on his face. "She stayed here overnight?"

"Separate beds!" Snape snarled, a tinge of embarrassment on his cheeks.

"Of course. May I come in?" Draco asked politely, albeit slightly mockingly.

Snape glared at him again. "Yes." He muttered grudgingly.

Draco stepped neatly over the threshold and looked around. Snape's private quarters reflected the man who owned them; ruthlessly organised and dark. There was not a mess to be seen anywhere. They were standing in the lounge room, which was lined with darkly-wooded bookcases and shelves. The carpet underfoot was dark grey, and the lounges were a mixture of midnight blue and forest green.

"Sit down." Snape said, pointing to the nearest lounge. "I'll go get her."

Draco obliged as Snape stalked over to one of the doors that were around the walls, and knocked twice.

"Narcissa?" he said, in a far gentler tone than Draco had ever heard him use. "Your son is here. He wishes to speak with you."

There was an inaudible reply from within the room, and Snape came back and sat down opposite Draco on one of the other lounges.

"She will only be a moment." He said to Draco.

A few minutes later the door opened, and Narcissa emerged, wearing a long, violet robe over her nightgown. She smiled warmly at Draco as she took a seat beside Snape.

"Dragon." She greeted. "How lovely to see you. Did you have a good first day yesterday?"

Draco reflected briefly on his kiss with his mate, and Pansy's advice. "It was average." He said instead, as dismissively as he could. "That's not what I came here to talk to you about though, Mother."

She regarded him seriously for a moment. "I assume you found out about my presence here through a Prophet article?"

"Yes." Draco confirmed. "It said that they had received news you were here last night for political talks with Dumbledore."

"Indeed I was." Narcissa agreed. "I suppose you're here to find out information about that?"

"Yes." Draco said patiently. "I need to know what to tell others if I'm questioned about it."

"Naturally." Narcissa paused for a moment, considering. "Dumbledore was very receptive, and agreed to offer us the full protection of the Order. I gave him all the information I have stored up about Lucius and the Dark Lord over the years, some of which he found very useful. He will fight for us, should anyone try to question our loyalties."

"So we're officially on the Light side now?"

"Yes." She smiled at him. "However, I do not want it too heavily publicised, nor do I want Lucius or the Dark Lord to know for sure which side we have chosen. Political talks with Dumbledore could mean anything, and no one will ever know for sure, no matter how much the Prophet theorises."

"So…" Draco ran through it again in his head, "We are on the Light side but no one is to know for sure that that is true except for us."

"Yes." Narcissa smiled again. "It would be better to be considered 'neutral' until the war begins in earnest. Then, we can publicly declare our allegiances. Until then, should anyone ask you, just tell them that my talk with Dumbledore had a positive outcome, but you have no comment besides that."

Draco nodded.

Narcissa heaved a tiny sigh and sat back in the lounge. "Now, enough about our political allegiances. Have you found your mate yet?"

Draco absently chewed his lip. "Yes."

"Who is it?"

"I…I don't think I'm ready to tell you." Draco said, looking away from his mother and Snape's piercing gazes, strengthening his Occlumency shields as he did so. "I'm handling it so far, Mother, but I really don't want to tell you at this point."

Narcissa looked thoughtful as she gazed at him; however, Snape's black eyes glittered with knowledge.

"Something happened with them, didn't it?" he said quietly.

"What? No, nothing happened, as such…" Draco protested.

"Have you completed the second stage of the bonding process with your mate, Draco?"

"I…no, but…maybe." Draco muttered. He considered using his Allure to get them off the topic, but he knew it would probably just make Severus angry.

"You have?" Snape leaned forward urgently. "Draco, you have to tell us. The next step of the process is absolutely crucial."

"Excuse me," Draco said, his voice cool, "but as far as I know, I don't _have _to tell _you _anything. Last time I checked the only one whose business this is is me."

Snape moved back in his seat as though slapped; Narcissa glared furiously at her son.

"That is no way to speak to your godfather, Draco." She scolded. "Your situation is his business because he cares deeply about you, as do I. We want to help you."

"I don't need your help!" Draco was on his feet now, furious at them and at himself. "I can handle the whole thing just fine on my own, and I don't need either of you to tell me what to do!"

"Draco, you are speaking like a child." Snape said coldly. "Sit down, and get a hold of yourself."

"No!" Draco ran to the door; Snape and Narcissa both got to their feet. "Just leave me alone, both of you! You have no idea!" With that, he threw open the door to the Potions classroom and ran through it, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Narcissa moved to go after her son, but Snape caught her arm before she could. "Let him go." He said quietly.

"But Severus…"

"No, he has to learn." Snape's black eyes gazed unseeingly at the door through which the young Veela had disappeared. "If he wants to run things his way for awhile, then fine. He is yours and Lucius's son, after all. He has a great need for independence, and despises relying on others."

"I know," Narcissa groaned, sitting back down and burying her head in her hands. "But what if something goes wrong, Severus? He's far too stubborn and headstrong for his own good. I feel I was correct in guessing who his mate was. Draco will force himself to continue hating the boy, I know he will, and he will go insane within the year."

"No he won't," Snape soothed, sitting back down also and hesitantly rubbing her back. "Draco's instinct for self-preservation is far stronger than his hatred for Potter. If the second stage of the bonding process has already been completed, it will be very difficult for Draco to resist seeking approval from Potter. He is every bit as stubborn and difficult as Lucius was at his age, Narcissa, but he also possesses aspects of your personality, remember. We can only hope he allows those ones to shine through at this time."

"I cannot just leave him here, to deal with it himself." Narcissa said miserably. "I cannot abandon my son."

"I will be here." Snape said, rubbing her back again. "I promise to you, I will not let things get too bad, even if Draco refuses my help. I will keep an eye on the situation whilst you manage business at Malfoy Manor."

"Oh, thank you, Severus," Narcissa said, swiftly grabbing the Potions Master into a grateful hug. "I cannot thank you enough for what you have done and continue to do for me."

Snape, frozen in her embrace, patted her hair awkwardly, marvelling at its silkiness. "It is no problem." He murmured, closing his eyes.

"It is no problem."

HPDM

The dull thud of their shoes echoed down the dank corridor as Harry, Ron and Hermione descended the stone steps, once more heading for their Potions class. For the moment, all three of them were silent, lost in their own thoughts.

The afternoon before, during their free period before lunch, Harry had confronted Malfoy about the incident on the train, as he had promised himself he would. Malfoy had kissed him rather than answer him, and the memory of that kiss still sent a chill up Harry's spine when he remembered it. The only person he'd ever kissed previous to that had been Cho Chang, so he didn't have much to compare it with; Cho had been crying when they'd kissed last year. He'd had no idea Malfoy was capable of kissing the way he did.

Understandably, once coming to his senses, he'd fled. He remembered storming around the corridors of Hogwarts, torn between fury, mortification and lust. How _dare _Malfoy do that, howcould he have done that in front of _all_ those seventh years, and _why _did it feel so good?

He'd found Ron and Hermione in the library already doing research on the chain of events Harry had been experiencing. They knew him well enough to know from the look on his face when he'd walked into the library that something had happened; however, Harry refused to tell them about it. How could he, when it meant linking it back to what had happened on the carriage? The idea of even saying '_Malfoy kissed me and damn it was good' _was unthinkable. He just couldn't do it.

They had researched the entire free period, after Harry had given them an update about the change that had happened in his recurring dream. Lunch and double Herbology in the afternoon had been awkward, purely in that Ron and Hermione knew Harry was keeping something from them, and the situation was not helped by Malfoy's presence in both cases.

Today, his friends acted normal with him, but Harry knew they wanted to know what had happened during the free period after Potions the day before. The dream had also changed again since last night. The murmurs from the bright white light had become discernable, but they were in a language Harry didn't know, and spoken by a voice that he felt he should recognize, but couldn't pinpoint. Harry fully intended to inform them of this change during break, as Hermione would be in Charms when Harry and Ron had a free period.

He hated keeping things from his friends, but there was nothing else for it.

HPDM

_Thudthudthudthud. _Draco drummed his pale fingers slowly on the desk. _Thudthudthudthud._

"Darling, really, I know you're agitated but there's no reason to make that noise." Pansy reprimanded from beside him, looking at him reproachfully. "It's not my ears' fault what's been happening to you."

_Thudthudthudthud._

"Draco!" she snapped.

_Thudthudthudthud. _He glanced over to her irritably. "Forgive me, Pansy, if this is the way I choose to work out my frustration." He hissed. "For you see, I have a lot of it at this point in time." _Thudthudthudthud._

Pansy rolled her eyes. "That's all very well and good and poor you and everything, darling, but could you stop? It's irritating."

Draco fixed her with a malevolent stare, and slowly and purposefully drummed his fingers on the desk again. _Thudthudthudthud._

"Well, that's just fine, be a baby." She huffed, turning away from him. "Merlin, no wonder Potter ran away from you."

In an instant Draco had seized her shoulders and pulled her so she was facing him; the steely glint in his beautiful silvery eyes was scary to behold.

"He didn't run away from me." Draco snarled desperately. "He doesn't know the truth, he didn't know what he was doing." He released her slowly, looking shell-shocked, as though unsure what had come over him. "He doesn't know." He said quietly, turning on his stool to face the front of the classroom again.

Pansy sighed, also turning to face the front. Draco had come to her in one of the break classrooms yesterday, all wide eyes and unsteady breathing. Eventually she'd forced the story out of him; he'd completed the second stage of the bonding process, he'd begun the body segment of the bond. He'd kissed Potter. There was no turning back for him now.

And then this morning, after reading the article about his mother, Draco had disappeared from the breakfast table only to reappear not half an hour later, scowling furiously with murder in his eyes. Pansy still didn't know what had happened, and Draco wasn't showing signs of wanting to tell her.

"If you want my help, darling," she murmured to him now, "you have to keep me updated on what's happening. I'm no good to you this way."

There was a pained silence, where Draco sat with his head buried in his hands and Pansy watched him. Finally, he mumbled, "I know, Pansy. I just…" he uttered a soft whimper. "It's so hard."

Unexpectedly, his head snapped up, and he stared avidly at the open classroom door. Knowing what was coming next, Pansy turned to look in that direction as well, and sure enough, not ten seconds later Potter and his little friends walked into the room.

Draco made a quiet gurgling sound in the back of his throat as he watched Potter walk to the back of the classroom, determinedly not even glancing once towards where Draco was sitting.

"Potter…" Draco murmured, his silvery eyes glazed. "He's right there, I've just got to go tell him and everything will be fine…" he actually made a move to get off his seat and do just that, but Pansy forced him back down.

"You will never forgive yourself if you do that in the middle of Potions, with Snape about to enter the room." She hissed into his ear. "I know it's because of the Veela thing and you can't control it easily and it's all very romantic and everything, but for the love of Salazar, try to conduct yourself as befitting a Slytherin!"

Draco straightened up, actually shaking his head in an effort to rid himself of the sensation he was experiencing. His heart was most definitely beating faster, and it was almost like there was a force trying to pull him towards Potter, like someone had lassoed him with an invisible rope and was pulling on it with all their might. Just staying where he was near the front of the class when his mate was in the back of the room took a huge effort.

Before anything else could be said, Snape swept into the room, his cold black eyes not even glancing once in Draco's direction. Draco took this for what it was; Severus was choosing to adhere to Draco's demands he'd made that morning. Severus would leave him alone, to the point of flat out ignoring him.

"Turn your books to the correct page." Snape sneered once he was out the front of the classroom. "There will be no need for me to say anything further on the theory or method of this potion, as I am continuing with an assumption that all of you have studied it overnight and are adequately prepared to begin work on it. You have an hour and a half. Begin now."

He swept behind his desk and sat, and Draco and Pansy busied themselves with beginning work; it would not do to be distracted enough that they wouldn't finish the potion in time. Draco pushed down as best he could all the urges he felt, working with steely determination that he would not let himself think about the presence of a certain Gryffindor in the back of the classroom. Well, not too much, anyway.

HPDM

_12:30pm_

"I have another change to tell you guys about," Harry began as they took their seats at row of three desks in a corner of one of the break classrooms. "About my dream."

Hermione looked at him carefully as she pulled out one of the thick books she'd borrowed from the library from her bag. "Fire away then, Harry." She said.

Harry quickly described the newer version of the dream he'd experienced the night before.

"Huh." Hermione frowned, her brows furrowed as she absently pulled out two more. "And you're absolutely certain that you didn't recognize the language at all?"

"Well, yes." Harry said. "It didn't sound like Latin, I know that much."

"Latin is the traditional language of magic." Hermione said, half to herself, still frowning. "But that doesn't mean anything, whatever is happening is still obviously very connected with magic." She looked up at Harry. "Could you try tonight to remember something, anything of what is said? Even if you don't know how to spell it, try and write it down as soon as you wake up."

Harry nodded. "I'll try."

"Good." Hermione heaved a tiny sigh and then pulled _Magic Malfunctions and Abnormalities _towards her. "Well, there's nothing more to be done about it now. Let's just start researching."

Ron, on the other side of Hermione, groaned and grabbed one of the other thick books on the table, _Recurring Dreams and Their Meanings, _and pulled it towards him.

Harry sighed as well and took the final book, _When Your Magic Goes Wrong, _and opened it up to begin reading.

HPDM

_12:50pm_

The students whispered and murmured excitedly as they came in their pairs and groups into the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom. It was the very first DADA lesson for the sixth years, and everyone was speculating as to what Professor Tonks, the Ministry Auror, was going to be like.

Several believed that if she worked for the Ministry then therefore she would be similar to Umbridge; however, most of the students were of the opinion that she looked like a damn slight better teacher than Umbridge ever was. Harry and his friends, who knew Tonks, were quick to assure those they knew that Tonks was a good person and would be a good teacher for them.

Everyone had only just taken their seats (Harry trying very hard to ignore the gaze he could feel fixed upon his back) when Tonks walked in. As during the Welcoming Feast, her hair was dull brown and her eyes shadowed. However, she did smile at the class as she set her things down onto the desk at the front of the room, and gave a little wave of greeting to Harry and his friends.

Silence fell immediately as people noticed her presence. She moved to the front of the desk and leant back casually on it, her hands resting on the edge.

"Well, hello everyone." She said. "My name is Tonks and I'll be your Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher this year. I would also prefer it immensely if you refer to me as that, and not 'Professor.'

Glances were exchanged amongst the students at this; teachers usually actively encouraged formal address by the students for their professors. There was a silent feeling already that Tonks would be a 'fun' teacher.

"Now from what I understand, you've had a very fragmented time of things in this subject," Tonks said, "with…five teachers, is it, in the last five years?"

There was a murmur of assent from the class.

Tonks nodded. "Well, it doesn't seem to have adversely effected you, if so many of you have managed to pass your OWLs well enough to be in this class. Congratulations to all of you, for that. That shows me I'm dealing with a group of very competent and talented young witches and wizards." Flattery was the oldest trick in the book for a new teacher to use with their classes, but Tonks seemed completely genuine, and so it worked a charm; people sat up straighter, listened more attentively.

Tonks cleared her throat. "Now, I'm not Delores Umbridge and so I'm not going to bother trying to protect you from what you know is the truth. You-Know-Who has returned to power and is at large once more, and all of us may suffer consequences from this, and we all know it. Therefore, this year the lessons I teach will not only be to try and get you all to meet Ministry requirements for the course; it will be to try and ensure you are able to live up to your capabilities and be able to defend yourselves."

Her eyes, which were brown today, flicked to Harry, and Harry thought he saw a glimmer of the old Tonks behind them. "I will also take this moment to say that the organisation known as the DA has my full support and the continued approval of the Headmaster, and I strongly suggest looking into that if you feel this class will not be enough to prepare you."

Harry grinned at Tonks, appreciative; Tonks smiled slightly back and looked away before continuing.

"Now, to business!" she said. "You've learnt your fair share about curses from Professor Moody, and about Dark creatures from Professor Lupin." Harry thought he saw her falter briefly over the werewolf's name, and wondered what that meant. "But, you haven't yet started on the skill of performing non-verbal spells. Can anyone tell me what the advantage is in using a non-verbal spell, first of all?"

Hermione's hand shot straight into the air, predictably. Tonks looked slightly startled, but called on her nonetheless.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Your opponent will receive no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, giving you a split-second advantage." Hermione rattled off at once.

Tonks nodded approvingly. "Very good, take five points for Gryffindor. Yes, non-verbal spells are extremely useful, which is why the Ministry feels it paramount you learn how to do them. Some are better at them than others, of course, as it takes concentration and mind power to get them to work. Instead of speaking the incantation, you think it, so the theory of it is not difficult, although as I said, the practise is without doubt harder."

She clapped her hands. "Let's see how you go, then, shall we?" she declared. "Divide into pairs, and have one partner attempt to jinx the other in silence, whilst the other attempts to repel the jinx in silence as well."

Harry paired with Ron whilst Hermione went with Neville. Harry and Ron sat facing each other in their seats.

"Do you want to be jinx-er?" Ron asked him.

"I dunno." Harry shrugged. "You try it first."

Ron nodded and fell silent, his face falling into a look of concentration as he looked determinedly at Harry. Harry waited, ready to perform the Shield Charm necessary should the jinx ever come, but after nearly ten minutes of it Ron had still not done anything.

There was a bang behind them; Harry and Ron spun around to see that Neville had been thrown out of his seat from the strength of Hermione's silent repelling of his muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx.

"Well done, Hermione!" Tonks enthused, as Neville got to his feet. "Take another five points to Gryffindor."

"You try." Ron said to Harry as they turned back around after giving Hermione a thumbs-up for her success. "I can't get it to work."

"Alright." Harry briefly cast around for a spell to perform before deciding on the Tickling Charm.

_Rictusempra, _he thought, flicking his wand, and at once Ron was doubled over in giggles. Harry blinked, surprised; his magic really did seem to be behaving strangely. He would've bet that he would never have been able to perform a non-verbal spell so easily before all the crazy occurrences and incidents started happening, and found himself wishing he knew _why _it was happening, even though in cases like this it was a good thing.

"Well done, Harry!" Tonks came over to congratulate him, lazily taking the Tickling Charm off Ron as she did so. "Five points to Gryffindor."

"Thanks, Tonks." She smiled mutedly at them for a moment, and then hurried off to take Lavender's whispered Conjunctivitis Curse off Parvati. Harry watched her go for a moment, and then turned to Ron.

"Don't wait for me at lunch," he muttered. "I want to hang back and talk to Tonks."

Ron looked slightly startled, but nodded nonetheless. "Alright, mate."

There was a strangled noise from the back of the room; Harry and Ron looked around to see that Malfoy, fury in his eyes, was struggling valiantly to get out of his seat and being kept from doing so by both Crabbe and Goyle, under instruction from Pansy Parkinson.

"Jeez, what's wrong with Malfoy?" Ron said confusedly, watching them for only a moment before turning back around again.

Harry scrutinized the blonde; Malfoy's beautiful silver eyes were fixed straight at Ron, almost glittering in their fury. Harry wondered at that, but supposed there was not much he could do to find out what had caused Malfoy's behaviour. The sight of those eyes in themselves made his stomach squirm uncomfortably in memory of the previous day, and he hastily turned back around as well to continue on with class.

At the end of the double when the bell had rung for the start of lunch, Harry hung back, waiting for the classroom to empty (Ron had already grabbed Hermione's arm and informed her of what Harry was doing before they left together, something Ron hadn't looked unhappy about) so that he could talk to Tonks. When the last student had left the classroom, Harry approached her desk.

Tonks was sitting there, writing; upon sensing his presence she set her quill into its inkpot and looked up at him, bewildered but still friendly.

"Harry? Why aren't you going to lunch?" she asked.

"I wanted to…um, talk to you." Harry said hesitantly. "I've noticed…well, me and Ron and Hermione have all noticed, that you don't seem yourself."

Something indiscernible flickered in Tonks's brown eyes; they appeared to close over. "I appreciate your concern, Harry, but I'm fine, I assure you." She said.

Harry dithered for a moment, not wanting to leave it at that, but quickly thought of a way to test a theory and find out information at the same time.

"Have you heard from Lupin?" he asked, seemingly off-handedly.

Tonks visibly jumped in her seat; her eyes betrayed her, hardening at the mention of the name. "No." she snapped uncharacteristically. "He's gone underground with the other werewolves for Dumbledore. I haven't seen him since July."

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly, finding his answer for both enquiries in her response. "Alright." He said quietly. "Sorry to bother you, and thanks for the lesson and for supporting the DA."

She sighed and rubbed her hands over her face, but still saw him off with a quiet smile. "No problem, Harry. See you."

"Bye, Tonks."

_TBC_

**AN: A relatively short chapter, but an update nonetheless. I went back and did some minor edits of the other chapters, nothing too big, just correcting typos and grammar and the little errors and miscalculations on my part. **

**Remember to let me know if you want to beta for me, and please review, it makes the chapters come out faster!**

**Until next time,**

**bleedingxheart**


	12. Jumped!

**AN: Whoa, I have more than 300 reviews! That's more than I've ever gotten for a fic before, you know. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! **

**I have 3 betas for this story; Yami Chikara, Teacup07 and ScreamforSOH (or just Sarah :P) Thanks to Yami Chikara, who beta-ed this chapter for me! Here's chapter 12.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter 12 – Jumped!

_Friday September 5th, 1:35pm_

"…you're going to get that essay done, Ronald, because in case you didn't notice, Professor Sprout set it for Monday and it's a very complicated essay, which takes a lot of research - and you haven't even started it yet!" Hermione lectured.

"Jeez, calm down would you?" Ron defended himself. "We only got that essay like, two days ago! I bet you anything no one else in the class has started it either."

"Harry has." Hermione countered, and then turned to Harry for support. "Haven't you, Harry?"

"What? Oh…yeah, I have." Harry quailed under Hermione's stern gaze. They were making their way upstairs from the Transfiguration classroom to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, their final period before lunch.

Harry's first week of term had passed relatively uneventfully, at least compared to what had happened on Monday. Since Malfoy had kissed him, though, Harry had barely even had the time to think about his rival beyond ignoring the gaze he constantly felt on him – a gaze that always seemed to come from wherever Malfoy was at the time. This was due to the fact that it turned out that sixthyear, and the work level that went along with it, was very time-consuming.

McGonagall had given him the list of Gryffindors who wanted to try out for the Quidditch team on Wednesday, and an announcement was already tacked to the notice board in the Common Room announcing that try-outs would be held at 11 o' clock in the morning on Saturday.

In addition to this, that morning at breakfast Harry had received a note from Dumbledore, requesting his presence at the first of their "lessons" at 8:00pm that evening. Harry was apprehensive about this, as he still didn't really know what it was Dumbledore would be teaching him.

The trio arrived at the DADA classroom only to find it nearly full already. In the five days or so of term, Tonks had already gained a reputation as being an excellent teacher, and students actively anticipated their lessons with her.

They took their seats at the front of the classroom (Harry again steadfastly ignoring the silvery gaze of Malfoy from the back) just as Tonks came in.

"Afternoon, everyone." She greeted, setting her things down on the desk and looking around at them all. "Wands away, please."

She smiled slightly at the audible groan of disappointment that swept the classroom. "I'm sorry, but you guys have done nothing but practical all this week, and it's about time we did some theory," she explained.

The students still seemed less than happy about this new development.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" Tonks wheedled, picking up a piece of chalk from the pile of things on the desk. "At least it's not some boring event from History of Magic, or something. You guys get to learn about Inferi."

"Inferi?" repeated Lavender Brown nervously. Similarly, people around the room looked apprehensive at the mention of the word. And rightfully so; Inferi were dead bodies charmed to do the bidding of the living, creatures which Voldemort was known to have used during his first rise to power.

"Is…is You-Know-Who using them again, then?" Neville asked timidly.

Tonks smiled kindly at the class. "Inferi inspire terror and despair amongst those that they are used against, and so yes, I imagine he would consider them just as useful a tool as he did before. So you see, it's very important for you to know as much as possible about them." She cleared her throat and moved to the blackboard. "Parchment and quills out, please, and copy this definition down…"

HPDM

Once the bell rang for lunch, the students poured out of the classroom. Harry, Ron and Hermione stayed back to chat to Tonks, who told them that Mr. Weasley had arrested a known supporter of the Death Eaters after his attempt to murder a Muggle. Ron looked extremely pleased at this, and they waved goodbye as they left the classroom for lunch.

They had only been walking along the outside corridor for a few moments when they heard voices, one panicked and one dripping with seduction, coming from around the corner.

"Get off me, you filthy…argh, don't bloody well…HELP!"

"That sounds like Malfoy!" Harry said, and the trio exchanged glances only briefly before drawing their wands and running forwards.

The sight that greeted them was strange indeed. Malfoy was being pinned against the wall by Lisa Turpin, a tall, blonde Ravenclaw in their year. There was an almost glazed look to Lisa's pale blue eyes as she determinedly tried to slide her hands inside Malfoy's robes whilst simultaneously kissing his neck.

"But I just want to touch you…" she murmured distantly, sounding most unlike herself; Harry knew her to be a very serious person, similar to Professor McGonagall.

"But I don't want you to touch me!" Draco protested weakly. They could see he was trying valiantly to reach his wand, but Lisa had his arms pinned in a scary display of strength.

Having seen enough, Harry stepped forward, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Lisa. "Stupefy!" he shouted, and there was a loud bang before Lisa froze and fell backwards, her eyes crossed slightly. He dashed forwards, Ron and Hermione behind him.

Malfoy was staring at Lisa as though unable to believe what had happened. When he realised who was there, though, and that it was Harry who had saved him from a very potentially damaging situation, he flushed a deep red.

"Get out of it, Potter!" he snarled desperately, straightening his robes haughtily.

Harry's mouth dropped open. From his left, Ron shouted, "Harry just saved you, you git! Show some gratitude!"

"A Malfoy never shows gratitude to anyone, Weasel!" Draco yelled, his wide silver eyes fixed on Harry's face. He looked thoroughly shaken and conflicted.

"What happened, Malfoy?" Hermione questioned, prodding Lisa with her foot.

"She…" Malfoy gulped, still unable to look away from Harry's face. "She jumped me, if you must know, just now. I had it under control!"

Harry realised he had been experiencing a feeling of being sucked into Malfoy's eyes. They were just so bright and beautiful…he shook himself enough to retort, "Where are your friends, then?"

"I was going to the toilet!" Malfoy snapped angrily, taking a shaky step towards Harry as he did so. Ron and Hermione exchanged startled looks at the Slytherin's behaviour. "I'm perfectly capable of moving around the castle by myself!"

"Of course you are, until a _girl _jumps you." Ron said. "It didn't look like she had any pure intentions for you either, Malfoy. You owe Harry big!"

Malfoy took another shaky step towards Harry and then stood still as though listening to something, shaking slightly. Finally he managed to spit out, "Just…don't you dare mention it to anyone!" and with what seemed a great deal of effort, turned and ran off down the corridor, disappearing out of sight in seconds.

In the silence that followed, the trio could only exchange bewildered glances; Harry found his breathing was more unsteady than usual as Hermione knelt beside Lisa. Even if Malfoy was a total git, he still had the most beautiful eyes Harry had ever seen.

"Rennervate." Hermione said, pointing her wand at Lisa. However, instead of instantly reviving, as she should have, the Ravenclaw remained Stunned.

"Rennervate!" Hermione repeated, gesturing with her wand more forcefully. Lisa didn't move.

"It's not working!" Hermione shot to Harry and Ron. Ron looked bemused. "Try again," He suggested. "Maybe you're not doing it right?"

"Of course I'm doing it right," Hermione snapped, but nonetheless she repeated the spell a third time; nothing happened.

Harry remembered the unusually loud bang that had sounded when he'd used Stupefy. "Maybe it's because I Stunned her, and my magic's been malfunctioning a bit lately?" he suggested. "That bang sounded louder than normal."

"Of course!" Hermione said, standing back up. "We'll all try together then, alright?" They all pointed their wands at the Ravenclaw on the ground. "Ready? Three…two…one…"

"_Rennervate!"_

It only took a moment; next second Lisa opened her eyes and moved slowly to a sitting position, wincing as she looked around her.

"What the…"

She visibly double-taked upon seeing them standing therewatching her, and struggled up until she was standing before them, eyeing them curiously.

"What are you three doing here?" she asked.

Harry and his friends exchanged glances. "Don't you remember what happened?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I was going to ask out Draco Malfoy after Defense class, because he's absolutely gorgeous." She said matter-of-factly. "Next thing I remember is I'm lying on the ground."

Hermione appeared to be at a loss for words, for the first time in her life. "You don't remember…talking to Malfoy?" she managed.

Lisa frowned. "No," she answered. "I was walking towards where he was, and then I was lying on the ground." She glanced around as though expecting him to be nearby. "You haven't seen him?"

"No." Hermione said quickly. "I think you'd be wasting your time, anyway, I heard a rumour he doesn't want to go out with anyone this year."

"I didn't hear that one." Lisa said sceptically.

"Well, that's fine, go right ahead, unless you want your heart broken." Hermione said warningly.

Lisa frowned absently to herself. "Well, I…not really." She scrutinised them. "Did you guys see what happened that put me on my back?"

Hermione and Ron looked to Harry; Harry decided quickly not to tell her. "No," he lied, "we didn't see anything."

Lisa frowned some more, and then shrugged. "Well, I guess I'll take your advice, Granger," She said to Hermione, "but that doesn't necessarily mean anyone else in the school is going to be disheartened from asking him out."

"What do you mean?" Harry jumped.

"The guy is gorgeous, in case you didn't realise." Lisa said patronizingly. She checked her watch. "I'm going to go to lunch now." She started to walk off and then turned suddenly. "Oh, and Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"First DA meeting is tomorrow night, isn't it?" Lisa asked.

Harry nodded, nonplussed. "Yeah, it is."

"Might see you there, then." Lisa said casually, and then flicked her hand in a lazy wave goodbye. "See yas."

"Bye," They responded together, and when Lisa was out of sight, Ron turned to the others, his blue eyes showing deep confusion.

"Anyone going to take a guess as to what _that _was all about?" he asked.

Harry and Hermione both shook their heads. Hermione appeared to be in deep thought, but Harry felt slightly shaky. As strange as it was to admit to himself, he really hadn't liked seeing someone else hanging off Malfoy like that, much less kissing him. There was also the fact that this incident was just the latest in a long line of strange occurrences that kept happening, all of which involved the Slytherin.

"I'm trying to think" Hermione murmured, frowning as they began to follow Lisa's steps towards the Great Hall, "The way Lisa was acting with Malfoy…it reminded me of something. I just can't remember what…"

"I can't believe that git didn't even thank you, Harry!" Ron said disgustedly as they emerged into the main room and stood, waiting for one of the staircases to change. "I know there're rumours about his Mother turning to the Light side, but I reckon we're better off without them!"

"Ron!" Hermione came out of her reverie to reprimand him. "Regardless of what Draco is like, the Malfoy family still commands a huge amount of respect and power in the wizarding world. If the rumours are true they will be extremely beneficial for our side."

"Yeah, but how much power is Malfoy's mother going to command when Lucius Malfoy is in prison, when he's still technically the head of the family?" Ron argued back as they stepped onto a staircase.

Hermione threw her hands into the air in frustration. "HonestlyRonald, you're impossible!" she declared. "And now I can't remember what I was thinking about."

Harry didn't say anything as his friends launched into bickering; he was too used to it by now to let it bother him. He knew that saying anything would mean getting sucked into the argument, and as they were primarily arguing about Malfoy, Harry especially didn't want to have to contribute an opinion.

HPDM

_8:00pm_

"Acid drops!" Harry said clearly, and the stone gargoyle that stood outside Dumbledore's office leapt aside. The moving spiral staircase behind it was revealed, and Harry was taken in smooth circles up to the door with the brass knocker. Harry knocked three times.

"Come in," came Dumbledore's voice.

Harry entered to find Dumbledore seated behind his desk as usual. Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he closed the door and took the seat on the other side of the desk.

"Good evening, Professor." Harry said.

"Good evening, Harry." Dumbledore smiled. "Thank you for showing up at such short notice. I do hope I am not interrupting your study time too much?"

"Er, no." Harry said, glancing around for a hint about what the lesson would entail.

Dumbledore chuckled. "Ah, the curiosity of youth." He said. "You have been wondering, I guess, what I am going to teach you about during these lessons of ours?"

"Yes." Said Harry.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and peered thoughtfully at Harry over them. "What do you think I am going to teach you?"

"Er…" Harry hadn't been expecting this, "I don't know, I thought it would be something to do with…with the…with the prophecy, sir." He said finally.

Dumbledore inclined his head gravely. "Yes, you are correct. What I have to teach you has everything to do with the prophecy." He cleared his throat delicately. "You mustn't continue under the impression that I will be teaching you fantastic practical defence magic the likes of which you haven't seen before, as I suspect you may believe. These lessons will not centre around a field of which we know. Instead, you and I will venture into the realms of the unknown and uncertain, which are the most exciting to be in."

"I don't understand, sir." Harry said.

"Guesswork, Harry." Dumbledore clarified. "Listening and theorizing. They are skills that are every bit as important as being able to perform defensive magic, and in our case, they are more important, for the moment."

"I see, sir." Harry said, not really comprehending at all.

"Now, I am going to tell you a story, Harry, a true story, and I want you to listen carefully." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "In the early decades of this century, there lived a family that were the last in the line of Salazar Slytherin,by the name of Gaunt. There was a father and two children, Morfin the son and Merope the daughter. They lived near the Muggle village of Little Hangleton. They were as pro-purebloodas you could get. What do you suppose that meant, Harry?"

"Er," said Harry, "they looked down on the Muggles who lived nearby?"

"Precisely." Dumbledore inclined his head. "The Gaunts were once a great wizarding family, wealthy and powerful. The family wealth had been squandered several generations previously, and so the Gaunts lived in poverty. The father in particular embodied the characteristics of a maniacal pureblood, praising his son Morfin whenever he happened to curse any of the Muggles nearby, living wrapped in an overwhelming arrogance that they were superior. As we know, this attitude isnot uncommon today."

"No." Harry murmured, shaking his head.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "The Gaunts could easily have been rid of their poverty had they sold the artefacts they had in their possession. You see, they had two family heirlooms, passed down through the ages directly from Salazar Slytherin himself: a heavy gold locketand a ring. Either, of course, would have sufficed to end the squalor they lived in. But the father was maniacaland clung to their heirlooms like they were his long lost children. In fact, Harry, he treasured them just as much as he did his actual son, and rather more than his daughter."

"Why?" Harry asked, confused. "What was wrong with her?"

"Nothing we would consider particularly shameful," Dumbledore said, "for Merope Gaunt had very poor magical powers, and was in fact practically a Squib. However, her father considered this a deep shame, and mocked and tortured her for it, openly favouring his son. In his eyes, Merope was a failure."

"That's horrible!" Harry protested.

"Indeed it is," Dumbledore agreed.

"But sir," Harry said, "What do the Gaunts have to do with the prophecy?"

"Ah!" said Dumbledore. "I was wondering when you would ask. Perhaps it would help if I told you the name of Merope's father?"

Harry waited.

"Marvolo." Dumbledore said, waiting for the ball to drop, and certainly it did not take long.

"Marvolo?" Harry repeated, stunned. "Sir, wasn't that the name of…of Voldemort's grandfather?"

"Yes, it was, and yes, he was." Dumbledore confirmed.

Harry gaped. "So Merope, was she…sir, was she Voldemort's _mother?_"

"Right again, Harry." Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, Merope Gaunt was Voldemort's mother. I wonder, have you ever him talk about his father?"

"Yes," Harry said, "wasn't he a Muggle?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, by the name of Tom Riddle, a handsome Muggle who lived in a manor house near Little Hangleton. He often went riding past the dilapidated house that the Gaunts lived in with one of his lady friends, and Merope was deeply in love with him."

"I bet Marvolo didn't like that."

"He didn't know, " said Dumbledore, "and probably never would've found out, if it hadn't been for her brother Morfin. You see, Morfin had performed a curse on Tom Riddle, and a Ministry official was called to their house to deliver a summons for a hearing. During the confrontation that followed, Morfin let it slip to his father that Merope had been, in his own words, 'hanging out of the window waiting for him to ride home,' and subsequently, Morfin had cursed Tom Riddle. Marvolo was furious, and attacked his daughter; the Ministry official stopped it but was forced to flee, and returned with reinforcements. Marvolo and Morfin were both arrested and convicted. Morfin was sentenced to two years imprisonment in Azkaban, Marvolo to six months."

"So after that," Harry said, hardly daring to believe it, "Merope ended up with Tom Riddle?"

"I suppose you are thinking he returned her ardour?" Dumbledore said, smiling gently. 'You forget, Harry, that Merope was a witch. After years of enduring her father's tyranny, Merope found herself to be free, for the first time in her life. It is my belief that without this influence, Merope's powers revealed themselves properly for the first time. There are ways, you know now, that one can use to make another fall in love with you. Love potions, the Imperius curse. Whatever it was, Merope used it. Within months of her father and brother's arrest, Merope and Tom Riddle were married."

"But…didn't she die?" Harry said, confused. "Wasn't Voldemort an orphan?"

"Indeed she did." Dumbledore nodded. "Only a few months into their marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at Riddle Manor, speaking of being 'hoodwinked' and 'taken in.' It does not take much to deduce that Merope, deeply in love with her husband, perhaps thought that by now, surely, he would love her in return. On top of this, she was pregnant, and that was her reasoning behind lifting whatever enchantment she had laid upon her husband. In any case, it did not work. Tom Riddle left her immediately, and never saw her again."

They were both silent for a moment before Harry asked, "So what happened to her then? Merope? What did she do?"

"Ah!" Dumbledore shook his head, his great silver beard swaying gently, "alas, we have talked too long. The next part of the story can wait for our next lesson, I think."

"Oh." Disappointed, Harry gazed absently at Dumbledore until he noticed that Dumbledore was wearing a ring he'd never seen before; heavy and golden, set with a black stone that appeared to be cracked down the middle.

"Sir," he said slowly, voicing his suspicion, "you said that the Gaunts had two heirlooms, a locket and a ring, right?"

Dumbledore inclined his head.

"Would that ring you're wearing now…" Harry began, but Dumbledore cut him off, smiling.

"How very astute of you, Harry." He said, his pale blue eyes twinkling. "Yes, this is the very same ring that Marvolo treasured."

Harry blinked and opened his mouth, but Dumbledore chuckled and stood up. "No more questions tonight!" he said cheerfully. "All will be revealed as we go, you'll see. Now, I think it is time to go."

Harry nodded reluctantly and stood as well. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Harry."

Harry was nearly at the door of the office when it occurred to him this was a golden opportunity to get another perspective on the recent happenings. He turned back around.

"Sir?"

Dumbledore looked up from where he had started writing something. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry quickly cast around for how to say what he wanted to say. "If a wizard's magic starts to…malfunction, what would you say would be the most likely causes?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry thoughtfully, and Harry experienced the familiar sensation of being x-rayed by the Headmaster's pale blue eyes. "Sometimes, a grievous loss or a prolonged period of emotional trauma is enough to make a wizard's magic unable to function as it once did." He said lightly. "Incidentally, there are several magical creatures whose involvement can cause a change in patterns for a wizard's magic."

Harry blinked, startled; they certainly hadn't come across that in their research.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, peering at him over his half-moon spectacles.

_I keep having strange dreams. I feel like I'm going crazy sometimes because every spell I do is too strong and whenever I make eye contact with Malfoy I can't look away. Malfoy kissed me on Monday and I'm not sure whether I should've enjoyed it as much as I did._

Harry tried to keep his expression neutral. "No, sir. Nothing."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment more, and then nodded seriously. "Very well. Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Professor."

HPDM

_Saturday, September 6th, 10:00am_

"Magical creatures?" Hermione repeated, frowning. "I've never heard anything about that."

"That's what he said!" Harry said defensively as they made their way through the castle to the Great Hall for breakfast. "He said that involvement from certain types of magical creatures can change a wizard's magical patterns."

"But what kind of magical creature would Harry be involved with?" Ron said sceptically. "Sounds a bit shifty if you ask me."

"If Dumbledore said it, there must be some merit to it." Hermione said. "We'll have to do some more research today."

"Are you kidding me?" Ron groaned. "Do you not realise how much homework we have, even though it's only been one week? And we have Quidditch try-outs at midday too!"

"If you tried doing some of your homework on weeknights rather than playing endless games of Exploding Snap and chess, Ronald, perhaps you would find yourself with a few spare hours of time on the weekends?" Hermione suggested coolly. "So you can enjoy your Quidditch try-outs without feeling guilty."

"I don't feel _guilty, _it's just that…"

Harry found himself tuning his friends out again as they bickered back and forth, marvelling inwardly at how often they managed to get into a fight about something. He supposed it was just the only way they knew of expressing their feelings for each other, in which case…that was just a tad screwed up.

He'd already told them everything Dumbledore had told him about the Gaunts and Tom Riddle Senior. As interesting as it had been, Harry found himself wishing he could ask Dumbledore's opinion about everything that was happening with Malfoy. Honestly, everything about the blonde git this year was weird. It wasn't just Harry who'd noticed,either. Everyone had noticedhow his looks had changed. And yet he spent most of his time either arguing with Pansy Parkinson or skulking around the school with his group of friends, seemingly oblivious to the crowds of people who gawked after him and talked about him with their friends.

They reached the Great Hall eventuallyand sat down to eat. As Harry was pouring himself some pumpkin juice, Hermione glanced up at him over her copy of the Daily Prophet.

"The dream didn't change last night, did it Harry?" she asked.

Since Harry's recurring dream had changed on Tuesday, Hermione had taken to asking him the same series of questions every morning.

"No, Hermione."

"Did you write down any of the words after you woke up?"

"Yes, Hermione."

"Do you have the sheet you wrote them down on?"

Harry winced. He'd left it upstairs.

"Erm…no, Hermione?"

"Harry," Hermione began sternly, "I can't help you if you don't help me first, you know."

"I know, I know," Harry sighed, running an absent hand through his hair, "I'm sorry, I'll get it for you before the DA meeting tonight. I just forgot."

Hermione's expression changed from being stern to concerned. "You've been really…distracted, lately." She said cautiously. "You sometimes go for ages without saying anything."

"Yeah, well forgive me if between schoolwork and my dreams I'm a little preoccupied!" Harry snapped.

Hermione and Ron both looked taken aback. Harry immediately felt guilty.

"I'm sorry," he apologised again, running a hand through his hair once more, "I'm just a bit on edge at the moment. I've got a lot on my plate." _More than I've told you guys about. _He added silently.

Hermione smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, Harry, I understand." She soothed.

Atmosphere having returned to normal, the trio resumed eating. Five minutes later, though, Hermione glanced up over her paper to the other side of the Hall with a frown.

"Malfoy's staring at you, Harry." She told him. "He doesn't look too happy, either."

Harry gritted his teeth, determined not to turn around. Ron, however, wheeled around at once and promptly gave a threatening glare followed by the finger to the Slytherin; Draco scowled and tore his eyes away from Harry in response.

"Actually, I've noticed him looking at you a lot this past week." Hermione said as Ron turned back around. "I don't know what for, though."

Harry was silent for a moment before he gave a nonchalant shrug. "Neither do I," he said quietly, wishing heartily that he did know, and silently wondering how long it was going to take before he did.

HPDM

_2:15pm_

"No, Pansy, I don't wanna…wanna go to Harry…my mate…Harry…get off me, Pansy!"

Pansy shot the blonde a death glare as she dragged him down the steps of the dungeons, maintaining a firm grip on his arm as she did so. Only when she had successfully dragged him into one of the many deserted side corridors of the dungeons did she speak to him.

"You stupid boy," she raged, "you idiot boy, how could you have possibly entertained the idea, even for a second, that what you just did was a good idea?"

"Harry…my mate…Pansy, let _go_…" Draco whined, but Pansy was having none of it.

"I understand that Potter puts you into an unreasonable state of mind, but dammit, surely you're able to maintain some vestige of your common sense!" she raged at him. "What were you just doing? Go on, tell me."

"I was…I was…" Draco looked very agitated. The beautiful glow in his eyes was nearly enough to put her off but she stayed as firm as she could. "I was…spying on the try-outs because I wanted…I was going to…_Harry,_" he breathed, and without warning he released a blast of the Allure.

Pansy stumbled slightly, her eyes glazing over only briefly before she forced her Occlumency shields into place and maintained her coherency. "Turn that blasted thing off," she snapped at him.

After a few moments, the Allure faded, and Pansy was able to relax her Occlumency shields. "Now, I'll tell you what you were doing." She growled. "You were huddled, underneath the stands like some common, besotted little fangirl, peering through the gaps at Potter like a damn stalker, nearly about to blow yourself up with lust!"

"I just wanted to…" Draco protested weakly, but Pansy cut him off.

"I don't _care _what you 'just wanted to' do, Draco, because you just can't do stuff like that!" Pansy raged. "You could have been seen, someone could have caught a blast of the Allure – because Merlin knows you were giving it off – you could have snapped and run out on a broom and freaking tackled Potter to the ground in your lust-driven rampage, and Merlin knows what else!"

"It's a miracle no-one's made the connection yet from all the clues that you've left them. And you're damn lucky you have friends like me to pay off people like those seventh-years who saw you kiss Potter on Monday!"

Draco made to speak but Pansy held up a hand. "I don't want to hear it. You chose to go into this denial spiral, darling, and while I am here for you in every way, if you keep doing things like that, one day I won't be around to save your ass and we'll see how well Potter reacts to the news that you're a Veela when he finds it out purely from you _sexually assaulting him_!" she finished with a shriek, momentarily breathless.

Draco winced at the sharp tone of her voice, finally snapping out of the Harry-induced trance he'd been in for the past twenty minutes or so. "I'm sorry, Pansy." He muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "It's just that it gets harder and harder to fight, every day, and I just can't…"

"There's a simple remedy for that, you know." Pansy said quietly. "You don't have to do this to yourself. Merlin, Draco, it's only been a week. It's only going to get worse from here. You've already got people like that Ravenclaw slut Turpin jumping you. Your powers will calm down once you've bonded with him."

"I know that," Draco snapped irritably, "but how exactly do you suggest I go about it? What if he rejects me?"

"He won't reject you, he's Harry freaking Potter!" Pansy argued back. "Defender of the downtrodden and all that bull. Doing something just for the sake of another person is all he ever does!"

The abrupt change in Draco's demeanour was alarming. One moment his silver eyes were simmering with desperation and irritation, the next, they wereswimming in tears as he slumped against the wall.

"Shit, Draco, don't cry, I didn't mean it…" Alarmed, Pansy moved to prop him up and wipe away his tears.

"No, you're completely right!" Draco cried. "The only way he'd ever be with me, if he doesn't reject mefirst, is because he feels sorry for me!"

Nothing Pansy said seemed able to console him. She ended up curled with him on the floor, rubbing his back as he sobbed.

"Fuck, I feel like…like such a…prissy!" Draco managed through his sobs. "It's just Potter, why does it matter so much…"

"Because he's your mate, darling." Pansy murmured soothingly. "Think of it this way: you're his soul mate, and he's yours. Instant access to the one you're _meant _to spend the rest of your life with – people only dream of that kind of thing. If he's any kind of intelligent he'll realise that."

Draco sniffled miserably – he looked completely adorable and cute, and Pansy made a mental note to tease him about it later. "You think so?"

"I know so." Pansy smiled.

Draco was silent for a moment before he groaned. "I'm not some stupid Gryffindor though, I don't have that kind of bravery." He murmured. "I just don't know if I could do it."

Pansy said nothing as she waited for him to compose himself before they went to the Great Hall for lunch. It was true, Draco was the most cowardly person she knew, for whatever bravado he presented. She only hoped he'd be able to overcome that natural Slytherin instinct of his for self-preservation before he drove both himself and her insane.

_TBC_

**AN: I'm quite pleased with how this chapter turned out. Hope you liked it too!**

**Harry Potter 5 came out yesterday and me and my friends went to see it, dressed up as Death Eaters. I was Rodolphus Lestrange. We had cloaks and masks and everything, it was awesome. We got some weird looks, but the cloaks flared when we walked so we felt like Snape. Does anyone else do this, or is it just us? Hahaha**

**Well anyway, please review, thanks for reading and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	13. The DA Meeting and Harry's Denial

**AN: Hello everyone! Yes, I'm back. I'm terribly sorry about the long gap between this chapter and the last one. I was extremely busy with school, and couldn't find the time or the enthusiasm to continue it, especially after Deathly Hallows came out. **

**However, it's the start of the school holidays now (I just finished my last Year 11 exam yesterday) and chapter 13 has been written and it's ready to go, and I think I can say that updates are going to be fairly regular, or at least more frequent than 2 months in between. Currently it's unbeta-ed, because I got impatient and wanted to get it out to my lovely readers ASAP. So if there's any mistakes, blame me. When my betas get it back to me I'll replace this version with the beta-ed one. Anyway. Enjoy!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Thirteen – The DA Meeting/Harry's Denial 

_Saturday September 6th, approaching 7:00pm_

"Ron, help me arrange these cushions." Hermione commanded, shifting a royal blue one slightly to the left as she did so.

Ron exchanged looks with Harry but obeyed nonetheless, walking to the spot in the Room of Requirement that Hermione was setting up for Stunning practise.

Harry wondered what the time was, and at once a grandfather clock appeared in the nearest corner. The hands on its face showed the time as 6:55pm.

"Everyone will be here in a minute." He told the other two, who barely looked up from their all-important cushion arranging at his words.

Harry stretched absently, wincing slightly as the bruise on his arm smarted at the movement. Quidditch try-outs had taken place a few hours before, and during the Chaser component of such, he had copped a Quaffle to his right arm after a very incompetent third-year's throw had gone spectacularly awry. Despite this, Harry was reasonably happy with the team he had assembled. He had three Chasers in Ginny, Seamus and a stout fourth-year, Sebastian Forte. Ginny was surprisingly good, Seamus was average and Sebastian had great potential, at least far more than any other student had demonstrated.

His new beaters were a pair of fifth-year boys who happened to be best friends, named Reginald Wilkes and Lucas Browne. Again, the pair could do with improvement, but Harry had seen enough to know their potential.

The Chaser for the team remained Ron, after Ron had bested all the other hopefuls by saving four out of five goals, more than any other. As a result, there was a slight swagger in Ron's current step as he helped Hermione with the cushions.

A knock sounded on the door. "Come in,' Harry called, and Neville and Luna walked in together. They both smiled and waved cheerfully in greeting. Over the next few minutes, students arrived in droves, until by the time it was 7:05pm there were nearly forty students assembled in the Room of Requirement.

Hermione shut the door and walked over to join Ron and Harry at the front of the room. The DA were all sitting on the ground, talking and laughing. Harry held up his hands for silence, which he received almost immediately.

"Hello everyone, and thank you for coming." He began. "It's great to see so many new faces here tonight. We," he gestured between Ron, Hermione and himself, "started this group last year because the Ministry didn't allow students to practice defensive magic. Obviously, we have Tonks now, so that's no longer an issue. However, we feel that the group needs to be kept going, because you can never have enough practise when it comes to learning how to defend yourself and those around you."

There was a round of enthusiastic applause at this statement. Harry waited for it to die down before he continued. "Now, we weren't quite betting on having so many more people turn up here, but we have set it up so that there can be several different activities happening throughout the room. Myself, Ron and Hermione are the leaders of the DA, but I'd also like to take this moment to ask Ginny to join us up here."

There was more applause and some scattered cheers as Ginny got up and walked to the front, a slight tinge of embarrassment on her cheeks.

"The four of us, for now, will be your leaders. Come to any of us if you need advice or help on a certain spell. Today we'll each be taking charge of a separate section. We'll be practising Stunning, Disarming, Shield Charms and Petrificus Totalus, just as a warm up exercise after the holidays. If you could just divide into four groups, we'll get started."

The students immediately began to quarter themselves, chatting excitedly. In the hubbub, Ginny turned to Harry.

"You could've at least warned me!" she huffed exasperatedly, but he could tell she was pleased.

"I'm sorry." He apologised. "I forgot all about asking you, I've been…"

"Distracted?" she supplied, with a slightly knowing smile. "I've noticed, Harry, we all have. But it's fine. I'll be happy to be a DA leader."

"Great!" Harry was relieved. "It's just that you're one of the more skilled people we've got, and the younger students seem to really like you."

Ginny waved a hand dismissively, but she grinned nonetheless. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Harry glanced around and saw that the DA had more or less effectively divided themselves into four separate groups. "Are you happy to take charge of the Shield Charms?" he asked Ginny. At her nod, he began directing the groups to the different sections, and the meeting began.

HPDM

"Great meeting, Harry!" A little third year Ravenclaw chirped as he passed by with his friends. "See you next week!"

Harry waved as they exited the room. Once the door had shut behind them, he turned to the others.

"That went well, don't you think?" he asked them.

Hermione was beaming. "It went wonderfully, Harry!" she enthused. "If we work hard this year I think we'll have every member, right down to the lowliest first year, able to perform all the essentials they need to defend themselves."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "What are we going to have them do next week?" he asked. They'd already worked it out that the DA would meet every Saturday at 7:00pm.

Harry shrugged. "We'll figure that out later." He checked his watch. "It's a bit after nine. We should probably head back to the common room."

"Blimey, Hermione and I have prefect duties!" Ron exclaimed, alarmed. At his words Hermione's eyes widened, and she promptly seized Ron's hand and dragged him out of the room with little more than a hurried "Bye!" thrown over her shoulder as they went.

Harry exchanged amused looks with Ginny as they followed, but at a much slower pace.

HPDM

_Sunday, September 7th, 12:00pm_

Draco absently twirled his rare white peacock quill in his hands, frowning at the sheet of parchment that lay before him on the desk. It had just ticked over into the afternoon on the Sunday, and his entire weekend had thus far consisted of thinking about Harry. Unfortunately, this put quite a damper on his homework completion rate.

He had already struggled through a list of questions regarding inanimate transfiguration for McGonagall, and was now supposed to be attempting a complicated essay regarding the properties of the Crooning Bush, a plant that lured insects to it by emitting a soft noise that sounded remarkably like a gentle hum. In theory, at least, that was what he should have been doing. In reality, he was doing yet more thinking about Harry.

_What colour robes would he wear if we had a bonding ceremony? _Draco mused. _Not grey, clearly I would wear that. Perhaps black, that's always elegant, or maybe green, to go with his eyes…_

Draco was so lost in his contemplation of the exact shade of green of Harry Potter's eyes that he didn't hear the door to the dormitory open, nor register that someone was approaching him until she was right next to him.

"Draco." She stated, and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Argh!" he whipped around, grey eyes blazing. Upon seeing who it was, he relaxed slightly, but still snapped irritably, "Don't creep up on me like that."

"Please, darling, I hardly crept up on you." Pansy scoffed, perching a hip onto his desk and glancing at the blank sheet of parchment. "Hard at work, I see."

He glared at her, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Bugger off."

"No offence meant, Draco." She said complacently. "Finding it hard to concentrate?"

"Yes."

She heaved a little sigh, tapping her perfectly manicured fingers annoying on his desk. "If you could just-"

"No."

"But if you just tried, I'm sure-"

"No, Pansy, for the last time, I'm not going to tell him!"

"If you don't, I will!" she countered.

He merely glared at her. "You wouldn't dare."

"Believe me, I would," she shot back, "because I know that's the best option for your wellbeing right now! In case you haven't realised, your friends are worried about you! Even those that aren't worried have commented that you seem different. Everyone is going to find out eventually, Draco."

Draco stared at the wall, grey eyes blank and indifferent. They were both silent for a moment.

"How long are you going to let yourself go on like this?" she asked finally, voicing the question that concerned her the most.

"As long as it takes." He answered tersely.

"Until you go insane, you mean?" she demanded.

"If it happens, it happens." He said quietly.

She threw up her hands in disgust, sliding off his desk. "I don't even feel like I know you anymore, Draco!" she cried. "The Draco I knew always knew what was in his best interests and always strove to fulfil them."

"I'm still that person, Pansy!" he defended himself. "I'm just…"

"A coward." She finished with a sigh. "Like all Slytherins are." She glanced at the still blank sheet of parchment on his desk. "I'll leave you to it, then." She said. "I'll see you in the Great Hall at lunch time?"

The anger had disappeared completely from his silvery eyes; now they held only a visible tiredness that stemmed from within. He nodded, turning back to his work, absently playing with the white peacock quill once more. "See you then." He said softly as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

HPDM

_3:00pm_

It was the day after the DA meeting, and that particular cloudy Sunday afternoon found Harry, Ron and Hermione back in the Room of Requirement. The purpose of this little excursion was for Harry to properly test his newfound magical capabilities, as this was the first opportunity since the term had started to do so.

Harry was duelling with Hermione in the middle of the room, both of them using non-verbal spells. Ron was sitting at the side of the room, using the opportunity to continue research into the reasons behind Harry's sudden increase of magic. He paused momentarily to watch the duel.

Harry sent a silent Tickling Charm at Hermione, who deftly blocked it and responded by summoning a flock of birds, which swooped viciously at Harry. Harry dived out of the way with a nimbleness born from his role as a Seeker, and sent a Conjunctivitis Curse at her instead.

Hermione blocked this as well, but held up a hand to indicate she wanted to pause. Panting slightly, she beamed proudly at Harry. "You've never been able to do that spell before!" she said excitedly. "Ron, did you see that?"

"Yeah, 'Mione, I did." Ron said, grinning at Harry as well. "Well done, mate."

"Thanks." Harry wiped his forehead with his sleeve. "Should we keep going, or shall we take a break and research for a while?"

"Perhaps we should take a break." Hermione allowed, and they walked over to where Ron was situated and took a seat (Ron eagerly moving things around so there was a clear spot beside him for Hermione).

"Now," Hermione began, "have you got a new sheet of parchment with any notes from your dream last night?"

Harry promptly handed over a sheet, on which a small list of words was written in his small, messy writing. It was the first time in several days that Harry had actually remembered the sound of the words that were always spoken in the strange language in his dream.

"Thank you," Hermione said, and began poring over them. Harry picked up the top book of the pile in front of them, and after glancing at the title (_Your Magic and You: Changes and Outrages)_ began to flick through it.

The trio were silent for a few moments. Harry was just following a possible lead in Chapter Seven of the book (International Changing Magic: A Case Study) when he heard Hermione make a noise of what sounded like extreme frustration.

Glancing up, he queried, "Problem, Hermione?"

"Here," she said, showing him one of the words he had written which she had circled: 'Tame.'

Ron glanced at it and raised an eyebrow. "What's so special about that one?"

"It's so familiar, that's why." Hermione retorted. "Harry heard a word that sounded like the word tame and it's ringing a bell for me…" she made the noise of frustration again, "but I just can't place it."

"You'll figure it out eventually." Ron said encouragingly; but Hermione had already turned back to the sheet of parchment. Harry grinned at Ron, knowing what he was trying to do, and then returned to his book.

Several hours later, it was approaching dinner and no new discoveries had been made in regards to Harry's situation. Ron glanced at the grandfather clock that had re-appeared in the corner, saw the time and promptly began to pack up. Maybe next time, mate." He said to Harry as he did this.

Harry nodded, closing the book he had been reading as well and glancing across the table at Hermione, who had spent the last few hours muttering to herself and occasionally scribbling something onto the parchment, only to later cross it out again. "Ready to go, Hermione?" he asked.

"What?" Her head snapped up, and she blinked somewhat dazedly at him before his question seemed to register. "Oh…yes, of course." She carefully folded the sheet of parchment and slipped it into her robes, no doubt, Harry suspected, to study it further later on that night.

Gathering up the books, they left the Room of Requirement, intending to dump the books at Gryffindor Tower before they headed to the Great Hall for dinner.

HPDM

_10:00pm – Slytherin Sixth-Year Boys Dormitory_

Draco was lying in his bed. He had managed to complete the Herbology essay, although he could not entirely say how good the quality of the essay was. He'd made sure to re-read it, however, just in case his subconscious had slipped in any mention of black hair or tanned skin or green eyes that seemed to cut into his soul…

_Stop it. _He scolded himself for what felt like the millionth time that evening. He turned instead to his intended pre-bedtime activity, re-reading chapter fourteen of 'So You're A Veela: A Guide To Being Beautiful And Having A Beneficial Life,' the chapter which described each of the stages of the bonding process in detail.

_Once the second stage of the bonding process has been completed, it becomes necessary for the Veela to receive verbal acceptance from their mate. The Veela does not necessarily have to literally ask their mate for acceptance in order for the acceptance to be given, although this could be useful to clear up any chance of miscommunication between the Veela and their mate._

_It is widely known among Veela experts that this stage is generally the stage that occurs the fastest, as by the time the Veela has experienced physical contact with their mate they will simply be desperate to be accepted by their mate, and generally explain the situation and gain acceptance within days, occasionally even hours, of the completion of the second stage._

Draco scoffed, closing the book with a snap. Stupid book. What did it know?

"Fastest occurring bonding stage my arse." He muttered, shoving the book onto his bedside table.

"What was that, Draco?" Blaise enquired, passing by Draco's bed on his way to the bathroom.

"Nothing." Draco said quickly. He raised his voice slightly. "Goodnight, everyone."

After receiving a chorus of goodnights in return, Draco closed the curtains around his bed and curled up, staring at nothing and picturing in his head the mate that his Veela side wanted so desperately to claim.

HPDM

_10:00pm, Gryffindor Common Room_

The fire in the hearth was crackling merrily as Harry, Ron and Hermione sat nearby, reading, scribbling things down or in Hermione's case, muttering under her breath as she stared furiously at a well-folded sheet of parchment.

Ron made a noise of annoyance and closed the book he'd been pursuing. "Nothing." He announced to the other two. "Absolutely nothing."

Harry glanced up, frowning. That particular result had been coming up more and more as the week had worn on.

Ron stretched, glancing at the clock over the mantelpiece. "We might as well go to bed, I think." He said. "Don't want to miss breakfast tomorrow."

Harry smiled, despite himself, but it was Hermione who responded. "Of course not," she said, but there was sudden warmth in her voice and her smile that had Ron looking like he'd just been clubbed over the head by Grawp.

"Er…right…erm…" Ron seemed to decide the best thing to do was to flee, so he stood up, stretched again rather dramatically, and then asked Harry if he was coming up to the dorm.

"In just a minute." Harry said, turning back to the book. "I'll just finish this chapter first."

Ron nodded, and after bidding them goodnight, disappeared behind the door to the boys' dormitories.

Silence fell between the remaining pair until Hermione suddenly threw the sheet of parchment onto the table in frustration.

"I just get the feeling there's something we're missing in all of this." She said, rubbing her temples. "It's like we have all the vital information bar one thing, and what that one thing is, I can't imagine, but it feels like we're so close to finding it…" she glanced at Harry, who was still absorbed in his book, and asked, "Don't you think, Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry had only been pretending to be absorbed in his book, but he feigned bewilderment anyway. "Oh, yes, definitely."

"I just keep going over it in my head," Hermione said, now staring across the room at a tapestry depicting Godric Gryffindor brandishing his sword. "The increase in magical power, the incident in Diagon Alley, the dreams, the language…" she sighed.

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. Yes, there was one thing that they needed to know, but Harry wasn't quite willing to tell them. He knew Malfoy was involved in the whole situation somehow, after what had happened on the train and then that _kiss _on the first day of term.

He'd done everything he could in the past week not to think about that kiss, but whenever he was alone and there were no distractions, usually before he went to sleep, the memory of it took him over. Those times he also tried very hard not to think about, because they left him with a hot, uncomfortable feeling and a fluttery sensation in his stomach. Compared to his kiss with Cho the year before, he had to admit (although only in the dark of the night) that he had enjoyed it more when Malfoy had kissed him.

Make that infinitely more.

Harry was, it turned out, extremely good at denial. He knew on some level that yes, Malfoy was a boy, and yes, he'd liked kissing a boy better than a girl, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Or at least, he was pretending it didn't.

He had considered, many times, how exactly Malfoy could be involved in the recent occurrences, but it was beyond him. He suspected that if he told Hermione she'd figure it out within hours, but as telling her would involve confessing about the feeling of lust on the train and the kiss on Monday, he refrained.

He was looking at Hermione, pondering all of this, when Hermione glanced up. Upon seeing Harry looking so pensive, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Harry?" she questioned. "What are you thinking?"

_Shit. _"Erm," Harry hedged, "nothing in particular, just that I wish we knew what was going on."

Hermione continued to stare at him suspiciously, but he put on his best 'picture of innocence' face, and eventually she looked away, to the clock above the mantelpiece. "I guess we should stop for the night," she said. "Come on, help me pack these books up."

They spent a few minutes closing the books and stacking them into piles, as well as grouping the sheets of parchments that contained any notes. Hermione handed the sheet of parchment that Harry had written his dream words onto back to him with a smile.

"Good luck," she advised.

Harry nodded, taking the sheet of parchment from her. "Thanks," he replied. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Harry."

It was around five minutes later, when Harry had made his way upstairs to the dorms and had settled himself into bed, that the memory of the kiss with Malfoy came rushing back. Resigned to it, Harry allowed his imagination to roam free, feeling disgusted with himself but unable to think of anything but alabaster skin, soft lips and bright silver eyes.

_TBC_

**AN: Yay! It's quite short, I know. Hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. We've got some plot-advancing events coming up in the next few chapters, so look out for that. Thanks so much to everyone who's reviewed this story, I'm past 400 and that's slightly mind boggling for me, so thank you so much. Thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	14. He's A Veela

**AN: Thanks so much to those who reviewed, I truly appreciate it. Here's Chapter 14!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Fourteen – He's A Veela

_Monday 15th September – 8:00am_

AZKABAN BREAKOUT: Death Eaters Now At Large

_The Daily Prophet can exclusively report that in the early hours of last night, a breakout was staged at Azkaban Prison by You-Know-Who himself. Four Ministry guards were killed during the breakout, while eight others are currently in St Mungo's being treated for serious injuries. Mr Archibald Tills, 39, was one of the few guards who escaped unharmed from the breakout; 'It was about 1:00am, I'd say, and I was patrolling the South Wing when the very ground itself seemed to shake, and I heard a bang louder than one of Filibuster's firecrackers from the North Wing. Naturally I went to see what was going on, but by the time I got there the prisoners were gone and there were just bodies everywhere.'_

_It has been confirmed that the North Wing of Azkaban is where the most important prisoners resided, including the Death Eaters who were imprisoned last June after suspicious happenings at the Ministry of Magic itself. The Daily Prophet can confirm that the eleven Death Eaters, as well as a dozen or so You-Know-Who sympathisers, all former residents of the North Wing, have escaped and are at large once more._

_Among this number is prominent figure of the wizarding world turned escapee, Lucius Malfoy. Although all the escaped individuals (pictured on page 2) are known to be dangerous and should not be approached under any circumstances, Mr Malfoy has recently had to sign a divorce from his wife, Ms Narcissa Black, and thus it can be imagined he is slightly more vindictive than usual. Nonetheless, The Daily Prophet urges its readers to contact the Ministry immediately upon sighting any of the escapees, and to exercise caution when out amongst the general public._

Hermione gasped loudly, quickly drawing the attention of her friends. She threw the newspaper down onto the table and spread it out with shaking hands, so that they could see the front page.

"Azkaban breakout," Ron read from the other side of the table, paling as he did so.

Hermione read the front page article aloud, Ron and Harry both listening intently. When she'd finished, a silence fell over them. Hermione robotically turned the page so that the faces of the escapees were sneering up at them.

"So he's forgiven him, then." Harry said softly.

"What's that, mate?"

"Lucius Malfoy. Voldemort's forgiven him." Harry said, pointing at the photo of Draco's father. Lucius gazed at up at them with icy grey eyes, an indifferent sneer on his thin lips. "He screwed up their mission to get the prophecy, but he's been freed anyway."

"Maybe You-Know-Who just wants to free him so he can torture him?" Ron suggested with a grin.

"Maybe." Harry looked around the Great Hall. Judging by the cheerful chatter and laughter coming from the majority of the students, the news hadn't spread just yet. Hermione appeared to be one of only a few Gryffindors who bothered to get the Daily Prophet.

"Oh no," Hermione said, drawing Harry's attention. "Give me a moment, you guys, I have to do something."

Ron looked on, mystified, as Hermione got to her feet and hurried halfway down the table, taking a seat next to a girl Harry recognised by sight but not by name. She looked completely distraught.

"Who's that?" he asked Ron, gesturing to the girl.

"Helena Rivers." Ron answered, still looking mystified as to what Hermione was doing. "She's in our year."

"Oh." Harry watched Hermione comforting the girl. "I wonder what's wrong with her?"

"You idiots," Ginny scoffed, appearing beside them, seemingly from nowhere. She gestured to Helena. "Her father is one of the Ministry guards who got injured in the breakout. He patrols the North Wing."

"Oh…" Now it made more sense.

"Still, big news, huh?" Ginny said, now waving a hand towards the paper.

"Yes," Harry said, looking again at the photo of Lucius Malfoy. The sight of the cold grey eyes and pale, pointed face brought to mind another individual, and Harry glanced across the Hall to the Slytherin table.

There, it was a much different scene to the Gryffindor table. No-one was visibly as upset as Helena Rivers, although Harry noted several of the Slytherins looked noticeably paler than usual. The majority of the students there had newspapers, and were sitting with heads bowed, deep in discussion.

Draco Malfoy was sitting quietly, eating a slice of toast, a copy of the Daily Prophet folded beside him. Harry could see Malfoy's friends were clearly discussing the news in great detail, yet as he watched, not once did Malfoy contribute to the conversation.

Harry had never really felt sorry for Malfoy before, but knowing now that Lucius was out of jail and the blonde would probably very soon be in the middle of a war of 'I-want-to-instil-my-values-into-my-son', Harry did feel sorry for him, just a bit.

At that moment, while Harry was thinking this, Draco's gaze suddenly snapped from a plate of bacon straight to Harry, and their gazes locked. Harry was taken aback at the action, feeling completely frozen to his seat. Even on the opposite of the Hall, the silvery shade of Draco's eyes was perfectly obvious, and Harry felt slightly woozy as he involuntarily recalled the first day of term, when he'd been staring right into them before their owner had leant forward and kissed him.

An undeniable wave of lust flowed through him, so strong it nearly knocked the breath out of him. Heat spread over his cheeks as his body begged to be allowed to go to the Slytherin table and touch the blonde. Another emotion arose within him as well, a strange sense of protectiveness, because all of a sudden Harry could see the sheer number of students who were also watching Draco with lust in their eyes, and Harry wanted to protect the Slytherin from them, because Draco was his…

"…don't you think, Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry realised his mouth was slightly open and promptly closed it, looking away from Draco with difficulty in order to face Ginny, who was looking at him expectantly.

"I said, don't you think it's weird that Scrimgeour didn't make a comment in that article?" Ginny repeated patiently.

"Oh, right." Now she'd pointed it out, it was weird, come to think of it. "Yeah, that is weird." He agreed.

Ginny and Ron launched into a discussion about the Minister's motivations and possible courses of action, but Harry was barely listening. He didn't look to the Slytherin table again, but even he couldn't ignore the warmth that still lingered on his cheeks and the throbbing reminder of the experience, which he kept concealed underneath the table.

HPDM

_12:25pm, Dungeons_

Draco allowed himself a moment to check his robes and ensure his hair was presentable. He was standing before the door to Professor Snape's study. Break had just begun, and Draco knew his godfather would be in there. All being in order, he raised a pale fist and knocked three times.

"Severus?" he called. "It's Draco."

The door swung open at once, revealing the calculating black eyes of his godfather, who gazed at him appraisingly for a few moments.

"Draco," he greeted, coolness to his tone. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"May I come in?" Draco asked by way of response.

"Certainly." Snape pulled the door wider, gesturing Draco in past him. Draco took the seat opposite the darkly wooded desk as Snape swept over and sat behind the desk, still watching Draco.

An icy silence fell between the pair. After all, the last time they'd been alone together in the same room, Draco had run away, slamming the door in the process. Contact between the two since then had been extremely minimal, limited only to class times.

Draco fidgeted with the sleeve of his black school robe. His reasons for seeing his godfather again in this manner were…delicate, and although he'd promised himself he'd do this, now he was here, the Malfoy pride was kicking in once more.

Snape watched his godson struggle with himself in vague amusement, but still determined on not being the one to speak first.

"Severus, I…" Draco cleared his throat and tried again, "I need your help." He scowled and dropped his gaze to his lap, hating every second of this.

Snape raised his eyebrows, honestly surprised. He had assumed at first his godson wanted to discuss the Azkaban breakout that the Daily Prophet had reported, but this appeared to be leading in an entirely different direction. "I see." He said in a measured voice. "Would the assistance be related to your Veela heritage?"

"Yes."

Snape nodded silently, relaxing slightly. So, the boy had finally given in. He'd been waiting for a fortnight for this to happen. Draco was stubborn and filled with Malfoy pride, just like Lucius had been while he was at school. Snape knew it would take some time before Draco's Slytherin instincts for self-preservation kicked in, and the need for his mate become overwhelming. Narcissa would be pleased.

"Do you require assistance in wooing them?" Snape asked matter-of-factly. "I know of several texts which will help you in your quest to complete the bonding process."

Draco shook his head. "I wanted to ask you whether you could give me a potion, actually."

Snape's black eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What kind of potion?"

Draco swallowed reflexively, determinedly keeping his gaze lowered. "A potion that will…lessen the effects of resisting the bond." He said quietly.

"What?" Snape was sure he had misheard the boy.

"I can't take it anymore, Severus." Draco looked up now, his wide silver eyes filled with unspeakable misery. "I want to give in to the urges so badly, but I can't, I just can't…" he swallowed again, his eyes still fixed on his godfather. "You must help me." He said. " I cannot think of any other alternative."

A mixture of anger, impatience and pity mounted in the Potions Master as he looked at his godson. "Draco," he said quietly, "there is another alternative, and you know perfectly well what it is, and that it is by far the best for you to take."

Draco shook his head frantically, so that his silvery-blonde hair swayed over his handsome face. "I can't," he said. "He will reject me."

_So it's a he, _Snape thought dryly. _One thing is solved, at least. _Aloud, he said, "I suppose you still insist on not telling me who it is?"

"Yes."

"You cannot know that your mate will reject you, Draco."

"I do!" Draco protested, his Veela side quickly taking over his mannerisms and thoughts. "He is perfect, he is everything, but he hates me. He truly _hates _me, Severus! And I know the moment he discovers the truth he will reject me without a second thought, and I will die of a broken heart."

Snape had never really appreciated before how melodramatic being an un-mated Veela could make someone. He felt a strong desire to just slap some sense into the boy, but it was with remembrance to his promise to Narcissa that he refrained, knowing she would want him to look after her son. Still, he couldn't resist inwardly rolling his eyes at Draco's declarations.

"You should not fight it." Snape warned. "I have impressed this upon you too many times, Draco. If you fight it, you will eventually go insane."

"I know that," Draco snapped, his regular self shining through momentarily. "That's why I thought you might have a potion to help me while I…sort myself out."

Snape was silent, thinking hard. He had promised Narcissa he would help Draco however he could. Then again, it was ridiculous that Draco couldn't get over his childish fear of rejection in order to woo his mate.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am sorry, Draco." He said softly, "but I cannot do as you wish me to when you can still solve the problem so easily yourself. You still appear to be sane and coherent, and thus I do not feel my interference is absolutely necessary."

Draco's silvery eyes widened, and he leaned forward, looking quite wild. "A dreamless sleeping draught, then," he begged. "Please, Severus. I don't want to dream about him anymore."

Snape absently rubbed his hooked nose, a habit he'd been unable to grow out of over the years, as he considered. Coming to a decision, he lowered his hand. "Very well," he relented. "I will prescribe a dreamless sleeping draught for you, but you may only use it once a week, twice, at most. I do not want you to become addicted to it."

Draco looked like he didn't particularly care if he became addicted or not, if it would stop him dreaming about his mate, but he recognised the gesture for what it was. "Thank you, Severus." He said sincerely.

Severus glanced at the clock hung over the study door. "Break is nearly over," he remarked. "I'll give you the potion now so you can take it to your dorm."

Snape got up and rummaged amongst the shelves that lined the wall behind his desk, eventually producing a small bottle filled with purple liquid. He handed it to Draco.

"Thank you," Draco repeated himself.

Snape didn't deign to acknowledge his godson's gratitude. "Remember, take it directly before bed." He reminded him. "I will see you later, Draco. Please look after yourself, and give that alternative the consideration it's due."

"Right." Draco said softly, already at the door. He'd already guessed the entirety of their conversation would be relayed to his mother. "I'll see you during Potions, I guess."

"Indeed. Good afternoon to you, Draco."

HPDM

_From the desk of Severus S. Snape  
Professor of Potions, Head of Slytherin House, Master of Potionery (First Class)  
Hogwarts_

_12:45pm_

_Narcissa,_

_Forgive me for resorting to this method of communication; I know how concerned you are about spies and the like. However, I am eager for you to receive this as soon as possible, and I plan to put the highest protection I can on the envelope. I write to you directly after a visit from your son, during break. He came to ask me for assistance in the form of a potion to ease his suffering, as he perpetually refuses to make any steps towards completing the bonding process with his mate._

_Rather than making the Sense-Numbing Potion I know would suffice, I adhered to his demands by instead granting him the use of the Dreamless Sleep Potion. If you disapprove of his use of such, let me know immediately, and I will remove it from his possession._

_I do not write, however, merely to relate your son's demands for potions from me. During our conversation about his mate, he revealed two vital pieces of information that have led me to a likely suspect for the identity of his mate. Firstly, he told me his mate is a male, and secondly, he told me his mate would never accept him because his mate hates him._

_Remembering the strength of the power boost Draco received after his birthday, I concluded his mate was thus male, magically powerful, with a hatred for Draco. There are only two male students I am aware of who truly hate your son. One is Arthur Weasley's youngest boy, Ronald, who is magically mediocre to a pitiable degree, and thus he simply could not be Draco's mate. The other is Harry Potter._

_Narcissa, I think your prediction has come true, loath as I am to admit it. I have heard Filius and Minerva both mention the boy's marked improvement in practical class work over the last fortnight, to almost astounding levels. And Potter and Draco have always shared a rivalry filled with hatred since their first day at this school. If you are correct (and I also, now, by extension) then Draco's outright fear of confronting his mate is understandable, if it is indeed Potter. I can imagine that Draco, remembering the past occurrences between them, would be simultaneously desperate to tell Potter and terrified of doing so._

_As I have assured you on numerous occasions, I believe he will submit to his Veela urges before he loses his grip on his sanity. He appears to be in good health, although admittedly his chosen path is getting to him. His asking anyone, especially me, for help is a sign that the Veela urges are starting to win the battle between his two sides._

_As for Potter, the boy has been so starved of love during his upbringing that I do not doubt that once he knows the situation, he will accept Draco with open arms. Pitiable, yes, but it will be fortunate for Draco._

_I will continue to watch over your son, as I promised you, Narcissa. I swear I will not let you down._

_Regards,_

_Severus Snape_

HPDM

_7:50pm_

"Salazar," Draco intoned lazily, and the stone door that was concealed in the wall slid open. He strode through, determined to still present the image of the calm and in control Malfoy.

The Slytherin common room was in an uproar – at least, compared to its usual standards, it was. Slytherins of all ages were huddled in groups, either sitting in chairs or standing, and conversing in low whispers that made it seem like the room was filled with a slight breeze.

Draco had no doubt they were discussing the news from this morning, and sure enough, several people looked round at him and stared as he made his way through the room. Most of the gazes were filled with curiosity, although he did feel quite a few girls' gazes were more aimed towards checking him out.

Speeding up slightly, he reached the door that led to the boys dormitory corridors. As Slytherins were located underground, their dorms were set out in a labyrinth of corridors and passageways that took quite some getting used to. Draco walked the path to the sixth-year boys' dormitory, his feet automatically knowing which way to turn.

He walked straight in, finding his male friends were all present within the room. They waved their greetings.

"Get your Herbology stuff done, Draco?" Blaise asked from his desk.

Draco had gone to the library after dinner, having wanted to look something up to get some extra information for one of his answers. "Yes," he responded.

"Many people there?"

"No, not really. Granger was there, but then again, what else is new?"

His friends gave appreciative chuckles. Draco wandered over to his bed and sat down on the edge.

"I would've thought you guys would be joining in with the gossip in the common room," he remarked.

Blaise made a contemptuous noise. "With those idiots? Please. There's nothing any of them are saying that we didn't hear already during lunch or dinner."

"Plus," Crabbe added, "it's not a nice feeling, being stared at all the time."

Seeing Draco's confused look, Blaise hastened to explain. "Surely you noticed them watching you when you came in?" he said. "Those that aren't truly involved like to watch the children of the Death Eaters that are known to have escaped."

"Ah."

Goyle now joined the conversation. "I'm half-expecting a letter from my father tomorrow," he remarked. "Probably warning me against associating with you, now that the Dark Lord's got his main supporters back."

Crabbe heaved a little sigh. "Me too."

"Just don't reply to them, if they come," Blaise advised.

"What about you, Nott?" Draco questioned, but it seemed to take the somewhat stringy boy a long time to answer.

"I don't know," he said slowly, keeping his back to the rest of them. "We'll see, I guess."

The other boys exchanged looks at Nott's odd behaviour. Now that Draco thought about it, the other boy had been acting weird for a few days.

"Are you right, Nott?" Blaise asked, voicing what they were all thinking.

"Fine, I'm fine."

"Right." Doubtful, Blaise turned his gaze back to Draco. "And how are you going, anyway? Pansy's been all in a flutter over you for a fortnight."

Draco adopted his haughtiest tone. "I'm perfectly fine." He declared.

"How're things going with your ma-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Blaise." Draco hissed in response, irritated that he couldn't even escape the mention of his mate when he was around friends who didn't know who it was.

"Sorry, I was just asking." Blaise said, sounding slightly hurt, but there was nothing Draco could do about that. He didn't want anyone else to know who his mate was, let alone how difficult it was when he couldn't stop fantasising about walking right up to Harry and confessing everything, and then consummating the bond in an abandoned classroom somewhere.

Even today, at breakfast, he had felt his mate's gaze on him and had looked up. He'd released the Allure without meaning to at the sight of those bright green eyes, must to the chagrin of those around him. He'd passed it off as an accident, claiming that he was still learning how to control the ability, but he knew it was because his Veela side was getting impatient to claim its mate, and honestly, Draco had no idea how much longer he'd be able to keep that part of him controlled.

What he'd told Severus during break was true – he just knew that if he told Harry the truth, Harry would reject him, because they hated each other. Well, Harry hated him, anyway, whereas Draco had found it increasingly hard since school had started to find anything about the stupid, perfect Gryffindor to hate. He couldn't remember why he ever had in the first place.

No, it was better off for everyone if only he knew how much he was suffering. Not even Pansy knew, although of course she had an inkling.

"I'm going to study for a while," Draco announced, and after gathering his books and equipment together, he shut himself into his four-poster, knowing perfectly well he wouldn't get a single piece of work done because his head would be filled with thoughts of his mate.

HPDM

_8:00pm_

"Harry, I've figured it out, I've figured it out!"

Hermione's excited shriek echoed through the Gryffindor common room as she came flying in through the portrait hole, bushy hair in disarray and a sheet of parchment clutched in one hand. Harry and Ron both watched, bemused, as she ran towards them, coming to a screeching halt before Harry. Panting, she beamed and handed him the sheet of parchment.

Harry took it, and leant back in his chair to look at it. It was the same sheet of parchment on which Harry had been writing words he recognised from his nightly dream. He had added another this morning, 'ensemble', and Hermione had only had a chance to look at it at dinner. She had immediately exclaimed something about the library and then took off, and they hadn't seen her since then.

Next to where he had written 'tame' more than a week ago, Hermione had written down a phrase.

"Je t'aime." Harry read aloud, and then looked up at Hermione.

"It's French, Harry!" she said. Having collapsed in a chair opposite them, she beamed happily again. "The language the voice is speaking in your dream is French."

Harry looked down again. Next to all of the words he had written down over their few weeks at school was a presumably French phrase, written in Hermione's handwriting. Beside 'ensemble', however, was an English phrase: 'together.'

"So what does that mean, if the voice is speaking French?" Ron asked.

"I did some research-" Harry and Ron shared a half-exasperated, half-amused grin, "-into the nature of French, and the origins, and everything. It derives from what was called Vulgar Latin, or the Latin of the people in Rome, and it's most commonly known around the world as la langue d'amour, or the language of love."

"Love?" Ron repeated incredulously.

"Love." Hermione confirmed. "Je t'aime actually means 'I love you.'"

"Blimey, mate," Ron turned to Harry, "That must be some dream that you have."

"Ron!" Harry felt himself blush slightly. "It's not like that."

"Magically, the use of French is very popular." Hermione went on. "It's most common association is with the Veela. Veela are creatures of love, and although they originally come from out of Bulgaria, it's only natural that they're associated with the language of love, but the idea that a Veela could go to this school is laughable…"

Hermione kept talking, but opposite her, Harry's heart had started pounding, and he could practically feel the blood rushing to his ears. He thought of the shade of hair the Veela at the Quidditch World Cup, and saw in his mind's eye the exact same shade of hair that adorned a certain Slytherin's head. He remembered feeling like he had no control over his actions, and recalled the multitude of students who he'd seen losing their heads whenever Malfoy walked past. He particularly remembered Lisa Turpin, and the way she had jumped the Slytherin, ten days ago, only to be unable to recall what she had done once Malfoy was gone.

He remembered the train on the first day back, and how no one seemed to be able to remember exactly what it was that had caused the feelings of overwhelming lust that day.

Harry did.

Malfoy staring at him all the time. Malfoy's changed appearance. His anger when Ron had called Harry 'mate.' That kiss, the kiss that still sent shivers up Harry's spine when he remembered it. Malfoy was more involved in this entire situation than he had ever suspected.

_He's a Veela, _Harry brain whispered, and the realisation seemed to hit him like a kick to the gut. Harry wasn't sure exactly how this information related to his malfunctioning magic levels, or the incident at Diagon Alley, or even why he himself kept experiencing unbelievable attraction and a feeling of protectiveness when he looked at Malfoy sometimes, but he didn't doubt that it would if he researched it.

As Hermione continued to prattle on about her theories, and Ron listened with the devotion of one who is completely smitten, Harry vowed to himself that from now on he would research as much as he could to confirm his own theory. He knew relatively little about Veela, bar that they were some of the most beautiful creatures on the planet.

_I'll figure out why Malfoy being a Veela seems to be affecting me, _Harry decided. _And then I'll consult with Hermione to see if I'm right._

Having decided on a course of action, Harry tuned back in to what Hermione was saying, but couldn't help but think again of the precise shade of silvery-gold that was Malfoy's hair.

_TBC_

**AN: Yay! That was quite long, which is always good. Things are finally starting to happen, which I'm sure the majority of you will be very happy about, right?**

**To justify the whole French thing, before I even started writing this fic I decided to incorporate French being the 'language of love' into my story because it just seems logical that elegant, beautiful creatures of love like Veela would speak the language of love. Lame, I know, but it gives me an excuse to throw in some Français into my writing. Anyway, I hope you guys don't mind :)**

**Well, thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**

**(P.S Chapter is currently unbeta-ed, so again, all mistakes belong to me).**


	15. Library Denials

**AN: Wow…over 500 reviews. That is absolutely mind blowing. Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed so far! Remember, if you have any questions, feel free to ask them in a review, I like answering questions! Here's the update, currently un-betaed.**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Fifteen – Library Denials

_Tuesday, September 16th - Voldemort's Headquarters_

The flickering flames in the torches were the only source of light in the darkened room. The sheer height of the room meant the light could not penetrate the shadows above.

Only a single figure could be found, seated in a chair not dissimilar to a throne, high-backed and golden, at the head of the long, darkly wooded table that sat in the middle of the room. He wore simple, hooded, plain black robes that covered all of him, save from a pair of deathly pale, spidery hands that perched on the arms of the chair as though ready to strike at any given moment.

At the other end of the room, the double doors made of oak swung open, and another man entered the room. Clothed also in plain black hooded robes, the man was short and somewhat chubby, with watery eyes and a rather rat-like appearance. He immediately sank into a bow once he knew the figure in the golden chair was aware of his presence.

"My lord," he spoke in a rather breathless, wheezy voice, "He is ready to meet with you now."

"Good," said the figure in the chair. "Send him in, Wormtail, and see that we are not disturbed."

"Yes, my lord. At once, my lord."

The man named Wormtail backed from the room, bowing as he went. A few seconds after his exit brought the entrance of another man into the room, Wormtail closing the vast oaken doors firmly behind him.

This man was tall, and unhealthily thin, a complete contrast to Wormtail. He wore the plain, black, hooded robes that seemed to be donned by everyone in the building. His hood was down, showing a pale, pointed face, cold grey eyes, and silvery blonde hair which had been tied into a long plait down the centre of the man's back. As he approached the man in the golden chair, he walked with his head held high, his shoulders back, and his chin up. Elegance and pride seemed to ooze from him.

Upon reaching the end of the long table at which the other man sat, the blonde man sank into a graceful bow, keeping his eyes lowered.

"My lord," he murmured softly, "I am back."

"Lucius," Voldemort greeted, his voice high and cold. "I am pleased, very pleased, that you have recovered so speedily from your ordeal. Not the most hospitable, I'm told, are the Azkaban cells."

"No indeed, my lord." Lucius said, straightening up. "I am also thankful for the speedy recovery, as it has allowed me to re-enter your service so much the faster."

"Naturally." Voldemort stood, walking until he was standing directly in front of Lucius. "How are the others?"

"When I left, the last I heard, they were recovering nicely. I am sure all of them will be capable of returning to your service within two days, at the most."

"Good, good." Voldemort sounded pleased. "As I'm sure Oake informed you, Lucius, both you and those you were leading have been forgiven. It would not do to lose some of my best followers simply through holding a petty grudge against them for one mistake."

Lucius spontaneously knelt and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes. "You are merciful, my lord." He murmured, standing up again only to sink once more into a bow. "I cannot thank you enough for this confidence in me you are showing."

"Indeed." The red of Voldemort's eyes glittered from the depths of his hood as he looked at Lucius. "Rest assured that if another mistake is made, forgiveness would not be an option the second time around."

"No, my lord. Of course not, my lord." Lucius said desperately.

"Good." Voldemort returned to his seat and gestured for Lucius to join him. Two goblets appeared on the table, each filled to the brim with a deeply crimson wine. Voldemort waved a hand to his favourite servant. "Drink, Lucius."

Obediently, Lucius drank, draining nearly half of the goblet in one gulp.

Voldemort smiled, although the dark folds of his hood meant Lucius did not see the expression. "My condolences for the…mishap, with Narcissa."

Lucius' cold grey eyes grew even colder at the mention of his now ex-wife. "Thank you, my lord."

"She has gone to the Light, I presume?"

"I do not know, my lord." Lucius had a very ugly look on his face indeed. "Rest assured that if that is the case, she will pay dearly for her betrayal."

"As expected, as expected." Voldemort placed his spidery hands back on the arms of the chair. "And your son?"

"Oake told me it seems like the boy is going to follow his mother, whatever path she may choose."

"Yet you have always told me that the boy is as firmly dedicated to my cause as you are."

"Yes, my lord." Lucius was anxious, although he tried not to let it show. "I am not yet prepared to rule out the use of the Imperius Curse. I raised him to follow me, and my beliefs."

"It is possible, it is possible," Voldemort conceded, "and indeed Severus has told me he has been acting slightly unusually too normal, although nothing too perceptible, but even you must admit that the likelihood of your wife casting the Imperius Curse on your son is very slim."

"But my lord…" Lucius began, and Voldemort held up one of his spider-like hands to cut him off.

"If all that has happened is that the boy has turned against the upbringing you gave him, Lucius, there will be a chance to remedy it." Voldemort said quietly. "He turns seventeen next June, does he not?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then he will have graduated from that school, and he will be of age. I have no doubt that if given the right…persuasion, he will see the error of his ways."

Lucius nodded gratefully. "Of course, my lord."

"Now," Voldemort settled back more fully into his seat, "in the settlement of your divorce with Narcissa, she wrangled it so that she received ownership of the Manor, did she not?"

Lucius scowled. This information still stung. "Yes, my lord."

"Pity. Such a prize piece of real estate. It seems a shame to let it slip from our grasp."

"Indeed, my lord?"

"In fact, I intend for the opposite." Voldemort let down his hood, revealing his pale, snake-like face and gleaming red eyes. He smiled at Lucius, a rather creepy occurrence due to the way it seemed like his facial muscles were simply unused to being used for such a purpose. "There is much to plan. I will need all of the assistance you have to give."

Lucius bowed his head, feeling grateful to his master, for his forgiveness, for his vision for the future.

"You have it, my lord."

HPDM

_12:25pm_

"No, really Hermione, I'll be back in time for Defense," Harry soothed his friend, who was currently staring at him worriedly from beside her mountainous pile of schoolwork. "There's just this one book I need."

"But Ron has just told me you both have Charms homework due this afternoon, and I don't understand what could possibly be so important that you'd miss this opportunity to complete those questions just to get a book!"

"But…um…the book is _for_ Charms!" Harry lied quickly, crossing his fingers behind his back in the hope he had fooled her. "There's just one thing I don't understand."

Hermione brightened slightly at this. "What is it? I'll help you! I'd just have to find my Charms notes, oh, where did I put them…"

"I need the book, Hermione." Harry said firmly, determined not to let his scheme fail. "I'll be on time for Defense, I promise."

Hermione frowned and opened her mouth to start up her tirade again when Ron cut across her tiredly from the other side of the table they were currently seated at in the Gryffindor common room.

"Merlin, Hermione, just let the man go, would you?"

"I…" Hermione bit her lip, glancing at Ron. Harry could practically see it finally occur to her those twenty minutes of Harry in the library during their break meant twenty minutes of being alone with Ron.

"Alright," she conceded, and Harry cheered inwardly. He waved farewell to the pair of them and headed for the portrait hole.

"But if you do end up late for class, don't come crying to me!" she called after his retreating back.

It took Harry around five minutes to reach the library, several floors below. He ran nearly the entire way, and thus arrived feeling distinctly puffed. He hurried past the hundreds of shelves, searching for the section containing books dealing with magical creatures. Finally locating it in the northwestern corner of the library, he began to carefully scan the shelves, looking for any book he could find about Veela.

Frustratingly, most of the books seemed to be missing, although there were a few thin books still left on the shelf. He selected one at random and flipped it open hurriedly, only taking a moment to note the title:_Basic Facts About Veela._

The book appeared to have been designed for first or second years, with large bold writing and brightly coloured illustrations. Every page seemed to consist of four or five simply written sentences about Veela.

He read the first of these: '_Veela are magical creatures that originated from Bulgaria.' _Beside this was a picture of the country of Bulgaria.

Rolling his eyes in disgust, Harry scanned down the page, eager for slightly more detailed information than _that._

'_They are widely considered to be the most attractive creatures on Earth.'_A picture of a young, stunning female Veela who was beaming up at him, holding a model of the Earth.

'_Veela always have silvery-blonde hair, pale-coloured eyes and flawless skin.' _Another image of the same female Veela, who was now pouting prettily at him.

'_Veela are among the few creatures in this world that have another individual whom they are destined to be with.' _There she was again, now clutching at a buff, handsome man. Harry thought he strongly resembled Lockhart, with the dazzling but vacant smile that was present on his face.

On to the next page: '_Once a Veela has bonded with their soul mate or, as they're most commonly known, their 'mate,' they will stay with them for life.'_

Harry stared at the picture beside this sentence. The female Veela was happily kissing the handsome man she was clinging to, but he could barely register it. The sight of that word in the sentence made him recall the moment, a fortnight ago, when Ron had referred to Harry as 'mate' and Malfoy had been furious.

"No…" Harry whispered, dread and horror combining into an icy block of cold realisation in his stomach. "It can't be."

He frantically scanned down the rest of the sentences: '_Veela are the only creatures in the world who possess the Allure, which makes those around them lose their minds.' 'The only person that the Allure does not work properly on is the Veela's mate.' 'In order to bond with their mate, the Veela must complete the four set steps of the bonding process.' 'The first step occurs after eye contact between the Veela and its mate for the first time since the Veela's Inheritance, making them release the Allure.'_

Harry remembered back to that day on the train, how his friends had lost their minds when Malfoy had entered their compartment, and how he'd been the only one able to remember what had happened. Judging from what the book was saying…

"I'm his mate," Harry whispered, horrified, alone in the long row of books. He blinked, the information seeming to be taking forever to sink through his walls of denial to his brain. Desperate, he looked back to the book, only to find more sentences that put it further and further beyond doubt.

'_The only thing a Veela's mate feels when the Veela uses the Allure is overwhelming attraction and a desire to protect the Veela._' That was eerily familiar. Check.

'_When an unbonded Veela is searching for their mate, it becomes very difficult for the mate to willingly escape the Veela. _Harry remembered back to the incident in Diagon Alley, when he'd felt something calling out to him and had apparently come over all strange, reluctant to move. Malfoy had probably sensed he was there and had been searching for him at the time. Check.

There didn't seem to be anything that explained why he'd been having his recurring dream. Harry already knew that the language being spoken in that dream was French, the traditional language of the Veela, and now he thought about it, the voice did sound kind of like Malfoy's voice, only softer and more gentle and loving than he'd ever thought it could possibly be. There also wasn't anything that explained his inexplicable boost in magical power, although Harry knew there would undoubtedly be something to explain that, somewhere.

He checked his watch and jumped in alarm when he realised he had only two minutes before break ended and he was expected at Defense class several floors below. Making a snap decision, he grabbed the remainder of the books about Veela and hurried to the front desk, checking out the books under the always-suspicious glare of the librarian, Madam Pince. With a minute to go he sprinted from the library, and in the end only made it to the Defense classroom seconds before Tonks entered to begin the lesson.

HPDM

_2:30pm_

Lunchtime found Harry seated at the Gryffindor table, feeling completely dazed. He'd barely been able to concentrate throughout Defense class, much to the continued irritation and suspicion of Hermione. But honestly, he thought he had every right to be a little bit out of whack, considering the nature of the information he'd just found out.

_Malfoy's a Veela, _his head repeated blandly for the millionth time, _and I'm his mate. Malfoy is a Veela…and I am his mate._

The fact that practically every single girl in the entire school (and a small percentage of boys too) had been drooling over Malfoy since term began now made infinitely more sense, because the guy had inherited the natural charm and attracting power of a Veela, for God's sake.

_I mean, just look at him, _Harry mused dazedly, looking across the Hall to the Slytherin table where the blonde was eating his lunch with his friends. _He's absolutely gorgeous, Lisa Turpin was right._

Harry still couldn't make himself believe the truth, no matter how many times he repeated it to himself. Just the very idea that he could be Draco Malfoy's soul mate, of all things, was mind boggling. They had been rivals for so long it seemed inconceivable they could ever be anything else.

The entire time he'd been sitting in Defense class, listening to Tonks' lecture about some particular anti-jinx or other, he'd been able to feel someone's eyes on him from behind. He knew perfectly well just who had been staring at him, and now that he knew why, it had been difficult to stop himself from sprinting out of the room, screaming the entire way.

But then he'd remember the way it had felt when Draco kissed him those few weeks ago, and a burning would shoot through his body like an arrow, and he'd keep himself resolutely in his seat.

_He's not looking at me at the moment, _Harry mused now, still watching Malfoy from the opposite side of the hall. _It can't be that bad, if he can keep his eyes off me for this long._

Spontaneously deciding to conduct a little experiment, Harry stood and stepped back over the bench he'd been seated at, ignoring Ron and Hermione's confused questions, and began walking down the length of the table, keeping an eye on Malfoy as he did so.

The second he began to walk, silvery eyes snapped up, straight to him, following his every move. Face burning from this unexpected result, Harry sat down between Dean and Seamus, pretending that had been his original intention all along.

After enduring a stilted and awkward conversation with them (Harry, of course, having absolutely nothing to say to the pair and having his mind elsewhere in the first place), Harry returned to his original seat with Ron and Hermione after about a minute.

The entire time, he could feel the silver gaze of his long-time rival riveted to his every move.

HPDM

_8:00pm_

Draco scowled to himself as he climbed the last of the many staircases that would lead him to the library. He was not feeling very well today. Several times during his classes he'd come over slightly dizzy, although that was nothing compared to the gut wrenching sensation that had taken over him. He felt it in his stomach, but most of all felt it in his heart. It hurt.

He had Transfiguration the next day, and as McGonagall had set them a long list of questions the week before and he had yet to complete even the first quarter of them, he was determined on staying in the library until he got them done, closing times be damned.

It was just after dinner, and subsequently, the main study area was packed with students, mainly younger students, feverishly completing various assignments and homework before curfew. The few older students he could see didn't look quite as rushed as their younger counterparts.

He avoided that area of the library completely, setting off through the shelves for the northwestern corner of the library, where his very favourite table to work at happened to be located, situated far away from where anyone else was.

He was weaving through the long lines of shelves when he stopped in his tracks, because not ten metres away from him was his mate, frowning intently as he ran his finger along a line of thin books. Draco's heart, which had seemed to have started purring after the initial sighting of Harry, froze as his mind registered exactly what books Harry was looking at.

_Oh, crap._

Draco knew very well what books his mate was looking at, having cleared out nearly all the books on that particular topic during the first week of term. He'd left the books that he deemed to be insulting to his intelligence, and to his horror he could in fact see one of those books in his mate's hands.

_Oh, double crap._

His mate appeared to be looking for as much information as he could find about Veela, and Draco recognised this fact as being indicative of one thing: Harry knew about him. Harry knew Draco was a Veela.

Involuntarily, Draco emitted a little whimper of horror, and although it was only a quiet noise, it was enough to make Harry's head snap up upon hearing it. Startled green eyes met anguished silver eyes in a moment that seemed to last for eternity. Draco's Veela side was urging him that this was the moment, this was perfect, he should confess everything right that minute and get his mate's acceptance.

Rather than listen to this fairly logical advice, Draco did what every true Malfoy did when faced with a situation that might possibly result in an unfavourable outcome: he tore his eyes away from Harry, and ran for his life in the opposite direction, ignoring the painful, fiery jabs in his stomach that protested this development, the roaring in his ears so loud that he didn't hear his mate's shouted plea for him to come back.

Somehow, it seemed doubtful that the Transfiguration questions would ever be finished.

HPDM

Pansy stood up from her desk, yawning and stretching. She'd been hunched over at the desk ever since she'd finished dinner, nearly an hour and a half ago, in an effort to complete the long list of Transfiguration questions McGonagall had set them for the next day. It was now approaching quarter past eight, and she had finally finished them.

She had just begun to contemplate whether she should get a head start on the Ancient Runes mini-assignment that was due the following Thursday or set herself up in bed with the latest edition of Young Witch Monthly, when her dorm mates Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass came hurrying into the room.

"Pansy!" Tracey said, unconsciously patting down her always-smooth dark hair, which was only slightly ruffled from exertion. "Zabini said to come and find you."

Pansy turned to face them, a dark eyebrow raised in question. "And why would that be, do you know?"

"He said it's something about Malfoy," Daphne said. "It's urgent, apparently."

There was something in her tone that indicated to Pansy the two girls knew something was going on with Draco and also knew they were purposely being kept in the dark about it.

"What's going on, Parkinson?" Tracey questioned, and Pansy noted the use of her last name. "He just hasn't seemed right since term began."

It was regretful, but Pansy knew Draco wanted as few people as possible to know the true nature of his current behaviour. Still, Pansy gritted her teeth and steeled herself for a week or so of being soundly ignored by the two girls as she replied in a cool tone, "He's been very stressed with family issues and is suffering as a result, not that it's any of your business."

The looks on their pretty faces would have been comical, if the circumstances had been different. As it was, Pansy watched their eyebrows go up and both of their blue eyes darken with hurt, and then turn cold.

"Whatever, Parkinson," Daphne said with an expert flip of her blonde hair, and Pansy had to admire how well she disguised her hurt with indifference. "Zabini wants to see you in the boys' dorm, anyway."

"Right," Pansy said quietly, and she brushed past them. "Excuse me."

She left the dorm and navigated her way through the girls' dorm corridors, back to the common room. She then approached the door that led to where the boys' dorms were located, and began to navigate those corridors as well. She was less familiar with them, having only used them to visit Draco in his dorm occasionally, but managed to locate the sixth year boys' dorm fairly easily.

She banged on the door. "Zabini," she called, "let me in this instant or I'll-"

The door swung open, and there was Blaise, his dark eyes looking even darker than usual, somehow. "Pansy," he greeted, stepping back and gesturing her in before closing the door behind her.

"What the hell is going on?" Pansy demanded of him. "Daphne said it was about Draco, and it's urgent, and-"

"It is," Blaise said, cutting her off. "He came in not long ago. I thought he was meant to be at the library, so I asked him why he was back so early. He didn't reply, just went straight to his bed and shut the curtains. I thought I heard him crying before…" and here Blaise looked embarrassed and Pansy didn't blame him, because it was just not the done thing to allow others to know your emotions. "He's always been the closest with you, I thought you might be able to help." Blaise finished, giving her a pleading look.

Pansy sighed, rubbing her hands across her face in exasperation. "I'll try," she told him, "but you know what Draco's like when he's in one of his moods."

"Thank you." Blaise sounded very relieved, and Pansy walked over to Draco's bed, which had its green hangings very firmly shut.

"Draco?" she called. "It's Pansy. Blaise told me what's happened. Would you mind just opening up the hangings so we can have a nice chat?"

There was a long silence, before Draco's strangled voice sounded from within the confines of the bed. "Is Blaise still there?"

"Yes," Pansy said slowly, exchanging glances with Blaise as she did so. When there was another silence from Draco, she called out cautiously, "Do you want him to go away?"

Another silence, and then a muffled, "Yes."

Pansy threw a helpless look at Blaise, who shrugged in a 'what are you going to do?' kind of way and mouthed '_good luck_' to her before leaving the dorm, shutting the door behind him.

Pansy turned back to the bed. "He's gone, Draco."

"Is there anyone else there besides you?"

Pansy glanced around the strangely deserted dorm. She knew Crabbe and Goyle were in the common room, but where the hell was Nott?

"There's no one else here," she confirmed, and after another long pause the hangings of Draco's bed were finally pulled back, giving Pansy an eyeful of her best friend.

Draco's hair, which since his Inheritance had been stylishly messy at all times, had now become just plain messy, and his silver eyes looked red – Blaise was right, Draco had been crying. The pure anguish that was visible in those silver eyes that made Pansy gasp.

"What the hell happened, Draco?" she murmured, moving slowly forward to be in arm's reach in case he required comfort of some kind.

Draco's voice was thick with misery. "I went to the library and he was there, Pansy, and do you know what he was reading?"

"What?"

"Veela books, Pansy! Veela! He knows about me, he has to, because why else would he be reading all those books about them! And he heard me and he looked up and he just stared at me and he _knows, _Pansy, he_knows_!" Draco words came pouring out in a wail.

"Draco, you can't assume that just because Potter was looking at a book about Veela that it means he knows about your secret ancestry and inheritance," Pansy said reasonably.

"It wasn't just one book, Pansy, he was choosing others, and why else would he be looking at books about Veela? He doesn't do Care of Magical Creatures anymore, no-one does, and they wouldn't come up in any other class!"

This was undoubtedly true; nonetheless, Pansy was determined to try and make Draco see the positives of this latest development.

"But if he knows about you, Draco, that can only be a good thing!" Pansy enthused. "Because then you don't have to have that awkward conversation you were dreading and explain everything to him. If he knows you're a Veela chances are he knows you're his mate, and if he hasn't already come straight up to you to reject your arse on the spot, that has got to be a positive sign!"

Draco was silent, and Pansy could tell he was thinking it through.

"But he didn't come up and accept me, either," he said finally, and Pansy honestly wanted to throttle him for being so obstinate. "Maybe he knows I'm a Veela but doesn't know he's my mate and in that case I _will _end up having to explain it to him and then get rejected by him at the end of it!"

Tears welled in his silver eyes as he said this, although he didn't actually cry this time. Pansy knew he still shuddered at the memory of the last time he'd cried in front of her, that time he had been spying on the Gryffindor Quidditch try outs and she'd had to drag him away. Still, crying was so out of the norm for Things Draco Malfoy Does On A Regular Basis that she still had to remind herself it was a product of his activated Veela genes combined with his inbuilt Malfoyish fear of rejection.

No matter what she said or how she said it, however, Draco still refused to listen to her advice, and after an hour of earnestly trying to get him to calm down (or, as she liked to think of it, to get over himself) he was still stubbornly determined to play the martyr and be convinced he would die alone. In the end he weakened enough to confess about his possession of the Dreamless Sleep potion, and Pansy immediately retrieved it from the bottom drawer of his desk and watched as he swallowed it in one gulp and fell asleep at once.

Sighing, she closed his bed hangings for him and performed his customary protection and privacy spells, before leaving the dorm to find Blaise and Crabbe and Goyle and tell them they were free to enter the dorm again, Nott still being conspicuously absent.

HPDM

_9:30pm_

Harry came stumbling into the Gryffindor common room, bag filled with books on Veela and the pages of notes he'd written out from them. After the unexpected appearance of Malfoy, Harry had spent the last hour and a half feverishly writing as much information about being the mate of a Veela he could find.

He wasn't sure why Malfoy had run away from him like that, although he guessed the Slytherin had found the prospect of a one-on-one confrontation with his…mate (how strange that word sounded!) too daunting to bear.

Still, he'd found it difficult to get the image of Malfoy, with his stupid silver eyes and messy hair, out of his head the entire time, and so it was no wonder that when he did come stumbling into the common room, Hermione noticed something was off with him.

"Are you alright, Harry?" she asked him concernedly. He appeared considerably paler than usual, his green eyes unnaturally wide, and looked slightly shaky, like someone who had just woken from a very disturbed sleep.

"I'm…actually, no, not really," Harry replied, dumping his bag in the chair beside Hermione's and collapsing in the chair next to Ron, who was now also looking at him concernedly.

"Are you sick?" she asked him.

"No, not sick, just…" Harry hesitated, unsure what to say but determined not to tell them the truth just yet. "Overly stressed, I suppose…" he finished helplessly.

Hermione exchanged glances with Ron. "Maybe you should go and get some rest?" she suggested gently. "It'll only do you good."

Sleep sounded like heaven to Harry, and so he readily acquiesced to this suggestion. "Yes," he said gratefully, "I think that's just what I need."

He stood up to carry out her suggestion, but he looked so unsteady on his feet, his eyes so glazed over and unfocused on the task, that Hermione quickly suggested to Ron he help Harry upstairs and into bed. Ron hurried to comply, putting a supportive arm around Harry's shoulders, and off they went. It was after the door to the boys' dormitories closed behind them that Hermione suddenly noticed Harry had left his bag behind.

Hermione was not usually one to pry. Her parents had raised her to have more manners than that, but being thrown into the wizarding world at the age of eleven meant she'd learnt that prying was sometimes the answer if you wanted to find out things. And of course, Hermione had a tendency to want to find out everything…especially what it was that had kept Harry at the library for so long after dinner.

Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, Hermione pulled Harry's bag onto the table and opened the first zip. The books she pulled out all seemed to centre around one thing; there was _Basic Facts About Veela, Being A Veela's Mate, Lured By The Allure: A Veela's Mate's Account Of A Lifetime With A Veela…_

Then there were the sheets of parchment, all covered in notes in Harry's handwriting about Veela and their mates. Harry had written down what appeared to be a checklist, and Hermione scanned it quickly.

_My recurring dream: started June 5th, which is Malfoy's birthday and the day he must've come into his Inheritance. Language is French because of its association with Veela, and voice is Malfoy's voice, only…loving. Veela's mates experiencing dreams is apparently uncommon, but not unheard of, only happening between a Veela and mate for whom it is of vital importance for the bonding process to be complete._

_Incident at Diagon Alley: first time Malfoy was around me after his Inheritance, he sensed me and sought me out, and I wasn't in a condition to stop Ron and Hermione from taking me away._

_Train incident: first step of bonding process, he saw me, big Allure release, and because I'm his mate I can remember what happened._

_Boost in magical power:_

There was nothing written beside this final point. Evidently, Harry hadn't found anything in his research to explain why his magical power had suddenly increased.

Hermione read every single sheet of parchment there was about Veela, even skimming Harry's brief and squeamish notes regarding the final step of the bonding process, storing all the information quickly into her neat and orderly mind.

When she was finished, she quietly put the sheets of parchment back into Harry's bag, along with the books, and zipped the bag up before returning it to its original position on the seat beside her. When Ron returned from upstairs five minutes later he found her ploughing her way through the same Ancient Runes translation she had been doing when he'd left.

They chatted idly for a while over their homework, but the entire time from the moment Hermione read Harry's notes to when she fell asleep a few hours later, her brain was whirring.

His strange behaviour that day suddenly made sense, as did nearly every other mystery that had plagued her friend since the holidays. Harry, her best friend, had somehow ended up having himself being the life partner and soul mate of Draco Malfoy, of all people. Harry had discovered this, and Harry was yet to say a single word to her about it.

Well, Hermione was going to have to have a little chat to Harry, come morning. He would have a lot of explaining to do.

_TBC_

**AN: Bahahahahahaha! Well, Harry's now figured out pretty much everything, and Hermione knows as well, and now Draco knows Harry knows too, just as Pansy knows that Draco knows that Harry knows. mind explosion lol**

**Ah, developments. Good times. Next chapter will involve the interference of two very fed-up friends, followed by some happy happy nice nice stuff. Sound good? Reviews will only get you your update faster, dear readers :P**

**Speaking of which, I'm kind of in my last year of high school now, so I shall inevitably be facing a shitload of schoolwork, meaning that updates may become more sparse, unfortunately. I promise I will find time to write whenever I can, though.**

**Well, thanks for reading, please review and I'll see you next time!**

**bleedingxheart**


	16. Pansy's Plot

**AN: Wow…over 600 reviews. You guys continue to amaze me. Thank you so much!**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Sixteen – Pansy's Plot

_Wednesday, September 17th – 7:45am_

Hermione had been intending to speak to Harry that morning, she really had. She'd gone to sleep the night before promising herself she would get Harry to explain himself for not telling her about the situation he knew he was in, no matter what happened.

Until she saw Harry the next morning.

Harry had looked like a wreck several times in the years she'd known him. The morning after they'd lost all those house points for Gryffindor in first year, the day of the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, the week at school after the Department of Mysteries only a few months before. They were only a few such occasions. But she'd never seen him look quite like this before.

It seemed clear he'd gotten no sleep, or at the very least, barely any. There were bags under his eyes you could probably fit a weeks worth of shopping in, and his eyes themselves were glazed over and distant, as though he wasn't paying attention to a single thing in front of him.

His attempt to return her smile of greeting appeared to be more of a grimace than anything else. She wondered if he'd been up all night worrying about the whole thing.

No, she couldn't confront him, not while he was like this. She just couldn't.

Ron joined them now, evidently only having woken up ten minutes prior as his hair was adorably mussed from sleep. Hermione waited for the backflip her stomach performed to pass before she gestured to her friends, and led them out of the common room, heading for the Great Hall.

HPDM

_8:15am - Great Hall_

It was pathetic, Pansy mused absently. It was honestly the most pathetic sight she'd ever seen, but yet she couldn't bring herself to look away.

Draco Malfoy, feared and respected unofficial leader of the house of Slytherin, was staring at the untouched plate of food in front of him, looking completely sorry for himself. His silver eyes had a somewhat wild appearance, and he was unconsciously tearing a napkin into tiny shreds with pale, shaking fingers.

When Harry Potter had entered the Great Hall 15 minutes before, it had been almost comical to watch Draco's eyes snap to his mate like metal to a magnet. It had even been comical to watch Potter, likewise, look around for Draco straightaway, make eye contact, turn a deep pink and then resolutely turn his head away. The Gryffindor hadn't looked once in their direction since.

Draco glanced up, a hopeful expression on his face, towards the Gryffindor table, only to return his gaze back to his food after a few moments, utter despair settling over his beautiful features once more.

Pansy looked over to the Gryffindor table as well. There was Potter, resolutely turned towards his Weasel friend while the redhead was going on about something, waving his arms around for emphasis. It was fairly obvious, to Pansy anyway, that Potter wasn't taking in a word of what the Weasel was saying. Pansy wondered if he'd actually told his little friends yet.

Pansy glanced to the other side of Weasel, where Granger was watching her friends converse, a concerned expression furrowing her brow.

Either she's just worried about poor Potter's wellbeing in general, or she knows as well, Pansy concluded thoughtfully. A miserable sniff directed her attention back to her half-Veela friend beside her. Draco was now putting a slice of toast through the same treatment he'd given the napkin previously.

"Darling," she murmured softly, drawing his attention from the food to her, "I know you're devastated and everything, and I feel for you, I do, but you're scaring the young ones." It was true, the clumps of first and second year Slytherins were staring up the table at Draco with wide, disbelieving eyes at seeing him as such a wreck.

Any other day Draco would've told her where to go; today though, he promptly set down the devastated piece of toast and selected another before beginning to silently eat it.

As Pansy sat beside her strangely obedient and definitely not-himself friend, watching him be the picture of misery itself, she came to the conclusion she should have a long time ago: enough was truly enough. If Draco was stubborn enough to allow himself to drown in unhappiness, then it was up to her to make sure he didn't stay that way.

If he didn't want to even try and approach his mate, then she would have to do the next best thing.

HPDM

_10:45am_

Defence Against The Dark Arts had been like sitting in hell for fifty minutes for Harry. He could feel Malfoy's gaze upon him for nearly the entirety of the lesson, despite the fact that they were working on a very complex counter curse, which required their whole concentration. As a result, Harry's efforts to complete the curse had been noticeably worse than his usual standard, and Tonks had held him back after the class ended well into Harry's break, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

Tonks had been looking even more miserable than usual while she was telling him concernedly that he just 'wasn't himself'. Harry had thought it was a bit rich of her to be saying that when so obviously she was exactly the same, and had told her just that. The end result had been that they had gotten into an argument and Harry had spent the rest of the break in an even worse mood than before, on top of feeling like he was about to explode with worry about the Malfoy situation.

So it was with an extremely reluctant air that Harry dragged himself to Transfiguration with Ron and Hermione, not looking forward to a double period of being stared at by his arch-rival-turned-half-veela-potential-partner-for-life Draco Malfoy.

McGonagall certainly didn't improve things either. After she'd collected their homework, she began her lecture. "Now that we have covered the skill of animating inanimate objects, and all of you have at least an adequate grasp on that skill, we can progress to a more difficult aspect of transfiguration, and that is human transfiguration. Before we even begin, however, it is of utmost importance that you grasp the theory behind it."

The class silently took notes while she lectured them for half an hour, and then she handed out mirrors, instructing them to work in pairs to try and change the shape of their eyebrows.

During the chaos that ensued, as it usually did in Transfiguration when they were trying out a new spell for the first time, a note subtly winged its way across the room from the group of Slytherins to the desk where Hermione and another Gryffindor girl from their year, Amelia Rivers, were working together.

Hermione paused in watching Amelia's attempt at the transfiguration to pick up the note, whose wings were still fluttering slightly, and glance suspiciously around. No one was looking at her, all being focused on trying to successfully complete the task set to them. She unfolded the note carefully and read the message inside.

_Granger,_

_Meet me during break in Classroom Twelve. Come alone, and tell no one. We have a mutual concern that needs to be discussed._

The note was unsigned, and Hermione didn't recognise the handwriting at all. She tried to think what the 'mutual concern' the note mentioned could possibly be. The only thing that was concerning her at the moment (besides her homework, her appearance and the whole Ron thing) was Harry and the situation he was in with Malfoy.

She decided that if the sender had anything useful to say about that situation, (assuming, of course, that was what the concern was referring to) then it would be well worth skipping valuable study time to meet with them.

Hermione was distracted at that moment by Amelia setting her right eyebrow on fire, leading her to intervene with a quick Aguamenti charm.

HPDM

_12:30pm – Classroom Twelve_

Pansy paced impatiently back and forth between the dusty rows of desks, checking her watch every few moments. She'd practically flown down the single set of stairs from the Transfiguration classroom in order to be at her chosen meeting place before Granger arrived and before Draco noticed she was gone. She fervently hoped no one had seen her write or send the note to the Gryffindor.

The door of the classroom creaked open, and Granger walked in, only to do a double take when she saw Pansy.

"Parkinson," she said in shock.

Pansy gritted her teeth at what she was about to do, but nodded her head in cool acknowledgement. "Granger," she greeted.

"You sent the note?"

"Clearly." Pansy rolled her eyes. Honestly, for being the smartest person in their year, Granger seemed to like stating the obvious.

Granger straightened her posture, squared her shoulders and met Pansy's gaze dead on. "Well?" she inquired. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

Pansy wasn't about to beat around the bush. "Potter," she answered, and then added as a second thought, "and Draco." She waited.

Granger's reaction very clearly told Pansy that she knew what Pansy was referring to. She actually leant back as though Pansy had hit her, and sucked in a breath. "I see."

There was a brief silence. "Draco's a half-veela." Pansy said abruptly. "He came into his inheritance early in the summer holidays, and once we got to school he discovered that your friend Potter is his mate. I assume you're familiar with…?"

"Yes, I know about Veela," Hermione interrupted. "And I can only assume you've asked me here because if Harry rejects Malfoy, then Malfoy will eventually die."

"Well, obviously I would like my best friend to live," Pansy interjected, rolling her eyes and causing Granger to turn slightly pink in embarrassment. "Draco came back to the dorms last night completely devastated. He told me that he thought Potter had figured out the truth."

"He has," Granger confirmed.

"He told you?"

Here Granger blushed again, and looked down guiltily. "I, er…not exactly, no." she said cautiously. "He came back from the library looking shell-shocked, and went to bed, and I, um, looked through his bag to see what he'd been doing because he'd been at the library for so long, and he'd written all this stuff down about Veela…"

Granger trailed off, and there was a moment of silence where Pansy stared at the Gryffindor in vague amazement. "You would've done well in Slytherin," she commented.

The effect was immediate. "How dare you!" Granger snapped, glaring furiously at her suddenly. "I would never belong in Slytherin, ever!"

Riled, Pansy fired back, "Think you're too good for us, do you?"

Granger faltered. "That's…that's not what I meant."

"Bullshit," Pansy snapped, disgusted. "That's exactly what you meant." She checked her watch and was alarmed to see that they were wasting time. "Look, our houses aside, the important thing is that Potter does know about Draco. The problem, however, is that neither of them is likely to ever do anything about it."

"I know Harry won't." Granger said. "But shouldn't Malfoy _want_ to tell Harry?"

Pansy sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly. "Yes, he does, but you don't realise how he's been raised. He's used to always getting his way, and Potter rejected him the first time Draco tried to reach out to him. He's convinced that if he tries again, the same thing will happen."

"Oh." Granger's eyes softened slightly. "That's…that's really…"

"Pathetic?" Pansy suggested. "The point is, Draco could be on his deathbed from resisting the urge to complete the bond and he would still refuse to tell Potter anything. The fact is, they are two steps into the bonding process, and something needs to be done."

Granger looked shocked. "Two steps?"

Pansy looked surprised, and then grinned a little evilly. "You mean Potter didn't tell you that Draco kissed him on the first day back to classes?"

"What!"

Pansy smirked despite herself. "Seems like you don't know everything after all, Granger."

Granger seemed to struggle with herself for a moment. "Alright," she managed eventually, "so Harry and Malfoy are basically halfway through the bonding process, and we've established that neither of them are going to do anything about it. What does that mean to us?"

"It means it's time to intervene," Pansy declared. "Draco's a wreck, and I bet that if you give Potter enough time to stew over this he will be too. We intervene before things get worse. First things first. You're Potter's friend, you should know; would Potter accept Draco, if given the chance?"

"I…" Granger faltered, "I'm not sure. I would say so, because Harry always tries to help people who need his help…I don't think it would sit well with him if he was the reason why Malfoy went crazy, even if it is Malfoy."

Pansy snorted. "Right. Well, it's a start."

"Why are you being so…" Granger searched for a word, "Helpful, all of a sudden? What's it to you whether Harry ends up a wreck or not?"

Pansy resisted the urge to roll her eyes again. "I could care less whether your precious Potter is a wreck or not, Granger, even though I'm not batting for the Dark Lord's team."

"You're not?"

"No." Pansy quickly realised she should have mentioned this earlier, and mentally slapped herself. "I'm not, because Draco isn't anymore, and he's my best friend." She shrugged. "I don't want to end up having to fight him, or maybe even kill him."

"Wait a minute, hold up." Granger held up her hands. "So Malfoy isn't on You-Know-Who's side anymore?"

"No." Pansy answered. "He's aligned himself with his mother. Potter is his mate, Granger. He would do a lot of damage to himself if he tried to battle Potter."

"Oh." Granger considered this. "Well, this will make it easier for Harry. But again…why do you care?"

"Because my best friend is suffering," Pansy snapped, "and I don't want to watch him do this to himself anymore, as I'm sure you can empathise. I don't like you, Granger, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I say it's time we use some."

Granger nodded, her jaw set in determination. "What do you suggest?"

"Draco's been avoiding Potter like the plague, because whenever they're in close proximity he just snaps," Pansy said. "My idea is simple; push Potter into Draco's path where he can't avoid Potter anymore, and Draco won't be able to resist."

Granger nodded slowly. "I can see how that would work. So how do we do that?"

Pansy grinned. "Here's what we're going to do…"

Draco would so thank her for this one day.

HPDM

_6:30pm – Great Hall_

"I am so glad I got that Potions essay done," Pansy said loudly to Blaise after checking that Draco would be able to hear her. "I made sure to put in lots of extra detail as well, you know, because I'm trying to see if I can beat Draco's marks for Potions this year."

Pansy cheered inwardly when her comment caught Draco's attention. "In your dreams, Pansy," he drawled, sounding a lot more like his old self. "You could never beat my marks even if Snape tutored you himself."

"Well, I bet I will this time because I know for a fact you don't have the extra detail that I do," Pansy taunted. Please, let her previous knowledge of him pay off, please, please…

"Oh yeah?" Draco scowled at her. "Well I think if I went back over mine and made it better you'd have no chance of beating me."

_Yes!_"You go ahead and do that, darling," Pansy said with a smile, "and we'll see who'll come out on top."

"Fine." Draco turned back to his dinner (not before shooting another furtive, lovesick-puppy glance at Potter across the hall, though) and Pansy searched out Granger, who was watching them keenly. Pansy did a subtle thumbs-up, which was the signal to Granger that all on her end had gone to plan.

Now it was up to Granger to hold up her end of the bargain.

HPDM

_8:15pm – Gryffindor Common Room_

Hermione shifted in her seat, checking her watch. It was nearly time. She glanced to where Ron was swearing under his breath as he scribbled furiously on a piece of parchment, and saw Harry sitting next to him, twirling a quill over and over in his hands, his eyes blank and trained on the table in front of him. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind as to what – or rather, _whom_ – Harry was thinking about.

_Show time. _"Oh, shoot!" Hermione exclaimed loudly, causing her friends to look over.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron asked, sounding concerned.

"I left my Ancient Runes book in the library!" she exclaimed. "And I have all those questions to do for tomorrow."

Harry was giving her a funny look. "Weren't you doing those after dinner?" he asked. "Since when do you not finish all your work in one go?"

"Erm, since…since I remembered there's all these things I could say about Sir Tarosiffle's theory about…"

"Say no more," Ron groaned, holding up a hand.

"I'm really swamped here," Hermione ploughed on determinedly, "so I can't go and get it myself. Harry, could you go to the library and get it for me?"

"I'll get it for you, Hermione," Ron said immediately, going to rise from his seat, and Hermione panicked.

"No! You can't!" she cried, causing both of her friends to give her a strange look. "You haven't even gotten on to your second paragraph for that essay, Ron, and I really think you should stay here and keep writing. Harry only has the conclusion to go, don't you, Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry blinked at her as though only registering she was speaking for the first time. "Um, yeah, I do."

"See?" Hermione said to Ron desperately.

"Alright, alright," Ron muttered sullenly, slumping back into his seat. "You go, Harry."

Harry nodded and stood up. "Where abouts in the library is it?"

Hermione remembered Pansy's earlier words: _He always, always sits at the centre table in the northwestern corner. Leave your book there, and Potter will run straight into him. _"At the centre table in the northwestern corner." she answered. "It's just my copy of_Advanced Rune Translation_."

Harry frowned slightly at her. "You don't normally sit there," he said.

"I…felt like a change of scenery…" she said weakly.

"You never feel like a change of scenery," Ron pointed out helpfully.

"Just go, Harry, alright? I'm really stressed about this," she said, meaning it.

Harry shrugged, already heading for the portrait hole."Alright, I'm going. I'll be back soon."

"Bye!" Hermione and Ron called as the portrait swung shut behind him. Ron resumed his frantic, muttered swearing as he put quill to parchment once more, and Hermione absently bit her lip, wringing her hands slightly. Hopefully, this would work.

HPDM

_8:25pm - Library_

Draco made a noise of impatience, seizing the nearest and thickest Potions textbook and heaving it towards him. As he rifled through the pages, though, he started drifting off into remembering the moment during Herbology when Harry had laughed at something the Weasel had said, and his whole beautiful face had lit up, just for a few moments.

"Bloody hell," Draco mumbled, putting the book down at the right page but promptly burying his head in his hands. Any time he was by himself, he couldn't concentrate properly, because all he could think about was Harry. Harry's face, Harry's voice, Harry's laugh, Harry's smile, Harry and the way that Draco had caught him staring at him several times that day, because Harry knew.

"Gah,' said Draco to no one in particular, removing his hands from his face and looking desolately upon the paragraph he had been searching for in the first place.

It was at this moment that the subject of his thoughts actually appeared, although Harry froze in his tracks once he saw who was sitting at the table where Hermione had left her book.

Draco gritted his teeth and tried not to cry out at the almost painful sensation he was feeling; his Veela side was going crazy, begging to get closer to its mate. It was like getting kicked in the stomach repeatedly.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted slightly shakily, inclining his head.

There was a long pause. "Potter," Draco replied, his voice unsteady due to the feeling that his tongue had suddenly become a brick in his mouth.

"I was just getting Hermione's book," Harry said, gesturing in Draco's general direction. Draco glanced down to see Granger's Ancient Runes textbook lying innocently beneath the chair to his left.

"Don't worry, I'll get it," Draco said dazedly, and before he could question himself as to what the hell he was doing he'd gotten up from his chair, retrieved Granger's book and was walking over to Harry to hand it to him.

"Thanks," Harry said quietly, accepting the book from him. There was a long moment where the two boys stood still, breathing unsteady, staring at each other.

Then, Harry absently licked his suddenly dry lips, and that was Draco's undoing.

A wave of lust pulsed through him at the sight of his mate's tongue, and something inside him snapped, just like it had about two weeks previously in the Great Hall. Draco launched himself forward, his mouth crashing against Harry's and his hands shooting up automatically to settle into gloriously soft and messy hair, and he moaned in relief. He was home.

Harry's brain, meanwhile, was swimming in sensation; vaguely he realised that Malfoy must've been releasing his Allure without realising it, because every touch from those pale fingertips felt like white-hot fire. He felt heady, dizzy, and he was vaguely having déjà vu from the last time Malfoy kissed him but this was somehow so much better, because this time he didn't ever, ever want to let go. He felt strangely complete with the Slytherin against him, and he liked it.

Harry slid his arms around Draco's waist and pulled him close, and Draco gave a groan of approval, his hands sliding from Harry's hair to cradle his face and deepen the kiss further. Draco didn't think it could get any better until he felt the same tongue that had caused him to snap pressing against his lips.

He opened his mouth eagerly, and emitted a strangled, desperate moan when his tongue touched Harry's for the first time. They stayed like that for a moment, kissing desperately, and it was awkward and messy but absolutely perfect, because it was with Harry.

Eventually air became a problem and they broke apart, gasping. Draco felt another wave of lust at the sight of his mate's eyes; they were darkened with desire, a deep, stormy emerald. Draco felt weak at the knees, and the desire to get assurance, official acceptance from Harry was overwhelming.

"Harry…" he gasped, reaching for his mate, but wide eyed, still panting, Harry moved away.

"Draco…" Harry began, looking dazed and desperately conflicted, "I…I mean…you're just so…it's so…"

"_Harry…_" Draco implored, but the next second Harry was backing up, his darkened eyes holding Draco's gaze, and then he turned and ran like his life depended on it.

Razor sharp knives felt like they were stabbing Draco for every second that his mate got further away, and powerless to do anything against this new sensation, Draco fell to his knees, crying freely and wishing more than anything he was in his mate's arms again.

_TBC_

**AN: Well, I said 'some' happy happy nice nice stuff last time, didn't I? I'm sorry about the cliffie (of sorts) but you know. It's all a bit too new to Harry for him to outright accept Draco the day after he discovered the whole thing.**

**I'd like to apologise for the enormous gap in updates. Like I said last time, I am in my last year of school, and like I suspected, I got a shitload of schoolwork, and I want to do really well so I had to concentrate on that. However, it's now summer holidays until February, so I'll try to update as much as I can before then.**

**I hope you'll all forgive me for the gap, and I'd just like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**

**bleedingxheart**


	17. Acceptance

**AN: Big thanks to everyone who reviewed, and welcome to the first chapter of my Veela story for 2008! Hope you all had a good new year, and sorry about the cliffie last time...**

About A Boy And His Veela: Chapter Seventeen – Acceptance 

_Thursday, September 18th – 8:00am_

The first indication for Pansy that her plan hadn't exactly succeeded came when she was waiting for Draco and the other Slytherin boys to emerge from their dormitories.

Crabbe and Goyle emerged first, deep in discussion about whether pancakes or muffins would be better for breakfast. They only paused in their frightfully inane conversation to spare her a brief nod of acknowledgement before they continued on their way.

Nott arrived next. Pansy wondered at how he seemed to have gotten even paler, if that was even physically possible. Come to think of it, she hadn't actually really talked to their rabbit-like friend for a few days, as all her attention had been focused on Draco.

"Morning, Theo," she greeted him with a smile, but the smile she received was perfunctory at best.

"Pansy," he said quietly, avoiding her gaze as he brushed past.

Perturbed, Pansy barely had time to wonder what that had been about before Blaise emerged from the door, alone.

And there it was.

"Where is he?" Pansy said sharply, cutting off any explanation Blaise might've tried to make as he opened his mouth.

Blaise glared at her resentfully. "Well, clearly _you _know what's going on better than I do," he huffed. "He's refusing to get out of bed. Flat out refusing. He's cast every ward known to mankind on his bed and he won't tell me why."

"Crap," Pansy swore, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

Blaise was still glaring at her. "If you had something to do with this, Pansy, then you should be the one who straightens it out," he snapped.

Pansy squared her shoulders and set her jaw. "Right." She muttered. "So sorry to inconvenience you, Blaise."

Blaise's frosty demeanour dropped suddenly, and he reached out to grab her arm in an appeal. "Pansy, what is going on? You can tell me," he pleaded. "I hate not knowing."

Pansy shook her head regretfully. "I can't, Blaise. I'm sorry. You'll know soon enough."

Blaise nodded, his eyes cool. "Right," he said, doubt creeping into his voice. "Let me know how it turns out, would you?" He brushed past her and strode away towards the common room exit before she could say another word.

"Blaise," she called after him, but he didn't turn his head, and it wasn't until the door had slid shut behind him that Pansy turned her attention back to the task at hand.

Within minutes she was next to Draco's bed, the green hangings of which were definitively and irrefutably closed shut.

"Draco," she called, "Open up, it's me. It's Pansy."

"Go away," came the muffled reply.

"Draco, it's breakfast time. We have class starting in an hour and you haven't even showered yet."

"I don't care."

"And why don't you?"

"Because my mate has practically rejected me and I want to spend the rest of my life here, where I don't have to endure the shame."

Pansy let out a low hiss through her teeth. "What do you mean,_practically _rejected you?"

"He ran away, Pansy!" the voice of her best friend coming through the curtains took on a hysteric tone. "I was about to actually ask for his acceptance, and he RAN AWAY!"

Draco's voice had risen to a shriek, and Pansy winced. Oh dear.

"And now it's over, Pansy! Over! He has rejected me, he will never want me and so therefore I am not going to leave my bed ever again, because I just can't face the humiliation, I can't!"

Pansy sighed. Whoever thought it would be fun to combine the infernal Malfoy pride with the Veela tendency to over-dramatise would pay dearly if she ever came face to face with them.

Still, she felt guilty for technically being the reason why her best friend was so upset. Although, he didn't seem to be in the depths of inconsolable despair that Pansy knew was associated with 'The Madness,' the term given to the condition Veela entered into if they resisted the bond for too long or after being rejected, which eventually lead to insanity.

Therefore, Pansy guessed that since Potter didn't technically verbally reject Draco, it was nothing but the aforementioned Malfoy pride that was keeping Draco bed ridden this morning.

"Come on," she said soothingly, "it'll be alright. He hasn't rejected you outright, you know, and until that happens, there's hope."

"Ha!" His laugh was furiously derisive. "He doesn't need to, Pansy. If he loved me, and wanted to be with me forever, he wouldn't have run away after I kissed him."

"He's probably scared, Draco," Pansy said reasonably. "Wouldn't you be? If you found out that your arch rival was a half-Veela, and that you were said arch rival's mate for life, you can't tell me you wouldn't be feeling even a bit uncertain about the whole thing."

There was a sudden silence, followed by a sullen, "I guess."

Pansy nodded, satisfied. Maybe she was finally getting somewhere.

Until, at least, Draco spoke again; "But that doesn't give him the right to just run away from me, without an explanation!" he exploded with anger. "I'm a _Malfoy, _Pansy. How dare he treat me this way!"

Inspired suddenly, Pansy nodded along. "Yes, how _dare _he." She agreed. "You should get out of bed and get dressed and give Potter a piece of your mind!"

Draco snorted derisively. "Nice try, Pansy. I'm not moving. I am going to stay here because he clearly hates me and I would rather die than face him ever again."

Pansy rolled her eyes heavenward. Stupid Veela and their melodrama.

He wouldn't be convinced. Nothing Pansy could say would get him to get out of his bed, and not a single spell she tried could break through the wards he'd set up. Finally, it reached 8:30 and Draco was clearly still set on wallowing in his own misery, so Pansy gave up.

"Fine," she yelled through the bed hangings. "That's just fine, Draco, you stay there. If you won't listen to reason then I'm not going to try anymore."

"Good!" he yelled after her as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

Pansy allowed herself a moment to rest her head against the door and wonder why things were going so badly.

HPDM

Hermione's indicator, meanwhile, was the look on Harry's face when he came downstairs into the common room that morning. It was the very visual of anguish.

Ron, oblivious as always, smiled cheerfully at her. "Morning, Hermione!" he greeted. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Fine, fine," she waved him off, looking at Harry with concern. "Harry, why didn't you come back with that book?"

"It wasn't there, and I had to search for it," Harry said tonelessly, "and by the time I found it and came back here, you'd gone to bed. Sorry. It's upstairs if you want me to get it, though."

"No, that's alright, Harry," Hermione said quickly, smiling reassuringly at him. "I managed to get them finished, so no harm done."

"Let's go to breakfast, I'm starving!" Ron complained, already inching towards the portrait hole.

Hermione nodded and followed Ron's example. Harry seemed to kind of wander along aimlessly behind them as they left the common room, heading for the Great Hall many floors below.

After they had reached the Great Hall and were seated and beginning to eat, Hermione glanced over at Harry to see his brow furrowed as he stared at his breakfast, a look in his eyes that suggested he was very deeply conflicted. She could practically see him mentally arguing with himself.

Hermione craned her neck to look over at the Slytherin table, only to see that neither Malfoy nor Parkinson were present.

Oh dear.

She didn't know for the life of her how to proceed now.

HPDM

_9:05am_

Their first class of the day was Defence Against The Dark Arts. As they filed into the classroom, Malfoy's absence was once again extremely noticeable. However, this time, at least, Pansy was present.

She and Hermione exchanged a look that conveyed that each knew something had gone wrong with the plan. Hermione looked pointedly at Draco's empty seat and back again, receiving a shrug from Pansy before taking her seat towards the front of the classroom with Harry and Ron.

Tonks walked in, smiling tiredly at them as she set her things on the desk. "Morning, everyone," she greeted, looking around at them all. Her dark eyes halted and rested on the empty seat beside Pansy where Draco was meant to be.

"Where is Mr Malfoy today?" she enquired curiously.

Hermione watched Harry's shoulders tense at the mention of the name. Pansy wasn't oblivious to this either as she answered the question. "Please, Professor, he feels himself incapable of getting out of bed today," she said imploringly. "He's unwell."

Tonks looked slightly taken aback, and then nodded. "Very well. As long as you catch him up with today's class work, Miss Parkinson."

"Yes, Professor."

"Good." Tonks turned back to the class at large. "Well, wands out everyone. Let's see if you've all improved on the counter-curse we practised last time…"

HPDM

_12:25pm_

Much later, the Charms double Ron and Harry had before break had just ended. Harry had done his best to try and make it seem to Ron like everything was fine, but he wearied greatly of the charade. Besides, he'd spent nearly the whole of class making his mind up, and now he'd made the decision and needed to be free of Ron's company.

"Ron," he said to the redhead, "you go ahead and meet Hermione in the usual third-floor break class room. I have something I need to do."

Ron regarded him curiously. "Something like…?"

"I'd…rather not talk about it," Harry said, pained. He hated lying to his best friend like this, but what else was he meant to do? "I'll see you in Potions, alright?"

Ron frowned. "Alright, whatever you reckon, mate," he said, "but you know that if you need help with anything or whatever I'm here for you, right?"

"I know, Ron," Harry said softly, meaning it. Ron was loyal to a fault, and he didn't doubt that the redhead would do his best to help Harry in any other situation.

Unfortunately, Harry thought as he sped away in the opposite direction, this problem was probably a little out of Ron's depth.

Harry managed to catch Tonks just before she left the DADA classroom.

"Tonks!" he called out, hurrying up to her.

She glanced up, confused and a little surprised to see Harry barrelling towards her. "Harry," she greeted, blinking at him as he stopped in front of her. "What's going on?"

"I really need to talk to you," Harry said in a rush. "Do you mind if we go back inside?"

"Oh!" Tonks continued to look thoroughly perturbed. "Um, of course." She pushed the door back open and gestured him inside.

Once the door was closed behind them, she walked over to her desk and sat down. "Please, sit," she invited, pointing to a nearby table. Obediently, Harry sat, and Tonks watched him in silence, waiting for him to speak.

"I just…I didn't know who else I could ask for advice," Harry began, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Advice about what?"

"Advice about…um…" Harry searched for the right word, "relationships."

Tonks' eyebrows shot up. Way up.

"I see." She cleared her throat delicately, and studied him more closely. There were bags under Harry's eyes, and he looked slightly paler than usual. His eyes themselves, behind his glasses, were wild, filled with a myriad of emotions.

"Harry, are you alright? You look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep for a while."

"Actually, I haven't," Harry admitted. "And that's why I need to talk to you."

"Okay." Tonks wasn't really sure how to proceed from here. Fortunately, Harry continued on without prompting.

"I recently find out that, um, someone…unexpected…sort of has feelings for me." Harry said. "And I haven't been handling it very well, and I don't know what to do."

Tonks flashed on her own current romantic situation, and someone else who was in Harry's position. "Well," she said carefully, "you have to think long and hard about whether you could ever reciprocate this person's feelings, and let them know the answer as soon as possible."

"I've tried," Harry said, sounding miserable. "It's just that…when I said it was someone unexpected, I mean it was someone _really_unexpected. I, um, didn't really like them very much before everything happened."

"I see." Tonks nodded slowly. "So you're conflicted, trying to figure out if you're capable of putting the past behind you or not."

"Yes, exactly," Harry confirmed. "It's doing my head in, because they're just so different now, but all I can think of is what it used to be like."

"Do you trust them, Harry?"

"I…I don't know."

"Because the thing is, if you can trust them enough to believe that what they're feeling is real and they're serious about it, then you might find yourself capable of giving them a shot." Tonks looked at him grimly. "Unrequited love is a serious thing, Harry."

"I know," Harry said. "I've just…I've been so horrible to him, I don't know if he'd be able to forgive me…"

He trailed off, shaking slightly, and Tonks blinked in surprise. _He._It was a boy. Harry had let it slip and apparently hadn't realised yet. This explained it a bit more.

Tonks got up and moved to comfort Harry, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Love comes in many shapes and forms, Harry, usually when we least expect it," she told him carefully. "And sometimes, you don't realise how good it actually is for you until you open yourself up to its possibilities. Remember that."

HPDM

_12:45pm_

"Today," Snape said, sneering around at them all, "We're going to be working on a Mind Altering Potion, a very difficult potion which will require your utmost concentration. Instructions are on the board, and ingredients in the cupboard. Begin immediately."

There was a sudden ruckus as everyone moved at once. Pansy gritted her teeth and walked over to where Hermione was sitting.

"Pair with me, Granger?" she asked, trying to keep her voice as indifferent as possible. "I seem to be without a partner today."

Granger looked startled, and then as though a light had flicked on in her head, she nodded coolly back. "Of course, Parkinson."

A few minutes later they were at the back table that Pansy usually shared with Draco, preparing ingredients.

"Where's Malfoy today? What on earth happened?" Hermione hissed under her breath.

"Like I said in Defence, he's taken to his bed," Pansy replied quietly, keeping a wary eye on Snape, who was prowling the classroom as usual. "He refused to get out this morning. From what I gathered, he kissed Potter last night and Potter ran for it, again."

"Oh dear." Hermione sighed. "That could have gone better."

"You think, Granger?" Pansy snapped. "Potter's done the next worse thing he could have besides outright rejecting Draco; he's wounded the Malfoy pride. Draco's something of a coward, and he's feeling humiliated and terrified at the thought of emerging from the bed and possibly having to endure something similar with Potter again."

"So how do we fix it?" Hermione asked.

"Well, first we need to get Draco out of bed. Nothing is going to happen if Potter's out here and Draco's still in his bed."

"And how do you suggest going about accomplishing that?"

"Don't worry," Pansy said, eyes flicking to Snape, "I've got that figured out…"

HPDM

_1:35pm_

Potions class ended, and there was another ruckus as students packed up their equipment in a hurry to get to the door. Once the room was empty, Pansy cautiously approached the front desk.

It was a rule of thumb used by Slytherins for several years now; if you need help with something and don't want to turn to Dumbledore, go to Snape.

"Sir?" Pansy ventured once she was standing in front of the desk. Snape glanced up, his black eyes cold and calculating.

"Miss Parkinson," Snape greeted, frowning.

"I need your help, sir…with Draco."

At once, Snape straightened. "What has happened, Miss Parkinson? Where is he?" he asked, somewhat urgently.

"He's in his bed, sir. He refused to leave it this morning. Things…aren't going as well as hoped with his mate."

_Potter,_Snape thought with a grimace. Out loud, he said, "Very well, Miss Parkinson. I will assist you in removing him from his bed."

"Thank you, sir," she said gratefully, and they set off together for the Slytherin rooms.

"As you are Mr Malfoy's particular friend, Miss Parkinson," Snape ventured carefully as they walked, "would you say he has succumbed to the Madness?"

"Oh, no, sir, it hasn't gotten that bad yet," Pansy assured her head teacher. "But I'd say it's only a matter of time if things continue."

Snape nodded grimly, reflecting again on the promise he made Narcissa. If it was the last thing he did, he would make sure he upheld that promise.

HPDM

_Meanwhile…_

"Um, Hermione?"

Hermione glanced at Harry, who had sidled up to her while they and several other Gryffindors were heading upstairs for the Gryffindor common room during free period.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I really need to talk to you," Harry blurted, and glanced warily in front of them, where Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville were laughing together. "Alone."

"Oh." Surprised, Hermione nonetheless felt relief. There was nothing else Harry would want to talk to her alone about besides the situation with Malfoy. "Do you want to go to the library?"

"Yeah, that would be good." Harry looked relieved too.

"Hey guys," Hermione called, drawing the attention of their friends. "Harry's realised he has extra stuff to research for Transfiguration after lunch, so I'm going to go with him to the library to help him, alright?"

Ron immediately looked slightly suspicious, but the others shrugged. "Alright," Neville said, waving to them. "See you at lunch, then."

"Bye!" Harry and Hermione called as their friends disappeared around a corner ahead, Ron still looking at them suspiciously as they went.

They redirected their steps towards the library, which mercifully had very few students in it. Hermione automatically lead Harry to her usual table, and they took seats opposite each other.

Hermione cleared her throat and looked at Harry seriously. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Well…there's no easy way to explain this," Harry began, running a hand through his hair. "You know all of those strange things that have been happening to be recently?"

"Yes?"

"Well, I think I know how they're all connected."

Hermione nodded encouragingly. "Yes?"

"Um…well, Hermione, you know Malfoy, and how he's been acting kind of…different, this year?"

"Yes…"

"I know why. He's a Veela, and he's just come into his inheritance so he's looking for his mate, and I'm pretty sure that I'm his mate," Harry said in a rush, with the air of someone who was desperate to get all the information out quickly. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you, but on the first day of term on the train, I saw Malfoy there, and I was the only one who could remember what happened, and I didn't want to say anything because…well, it was_Malfoy. _And then the day after that, I was confronting him about the train, and then he kissed me, and…"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," Hermione interrupted, holding up her hands and looking at him pleadingly. "It's okay, you don't need to tell me. I _know._"

"You…I don't…" Harry frowned at her, disconcerted. "What do you mean, you know?"

"I'm so sorry, Harry," Hermione apologised. "On Tuesday, when you came back from the library and went to bed early, I saw the stuff you'd been researching and figured things out on my own. I already know."

"You already…I don't…" Harry seemed to have lost the ability to speak properly. He took a few deep, calming breaths. "Of course you know," he said to himself, and then smiled weakly up at her.

Hermione smiled weakly back. "You're not angry?"

"I have slightly bigger things to deal with, funnily enough," Harry answered. "Well…this will make things faster if you already know most of it. Look, last night, when I went to get you your book, Malfoy was here. He gave me the book back, and then it was like…he jumped me." Harry drew a deep, shuddery breath. "It looked like he was going to ask me something, and I don't know, I just freaked out. It was too weird, it was just too intense." He looked at Hermione with desperate eyes. "I don't even know how I feel about him being a boy yet."

"I see." Hermione considered for a moment. "Well, did you mind it when he kissed you, either time?"

Harry blushed deeply. "Not at all," he murmured embarrassedly.

"There's your answer."

"But I'm not attracted to any other guys like that," Harry protested.

"Maybe you're not meant to be," Hermione said. "Maybe it's just Draco you're attracted to, because he's your soul mate."

"I…I guess…" Harry trailed off. "I couldn't believe it when I saw him sitting here though."

Hermione looked at her best friend with a pained expression. "About that…um…Harry, I have something else to confess. I made you go to the library last night because I knew Malfoy would be there."

"What?"

"Pansy Parkinson approached me yesterday, and she told me that Draco is a mess, Harry." Hermione said in a rush. "She knows about the whole situation as well, and she's worried about her best friend. She told me that Draco was terrified at the thought of approaching you, in case of rejection, and well, she convinced me to join her in a plan to try and get you two together."

Harry merely gaped at her.

"Obviously it backfired," Hermione went on, "because now you're terribly conflicted and Draco apparently simply refused to get out of bed this morning in a bid to avoid seeing you again, and I feel terrible about it, Harry, I do."

"He wouldn't even get out of bed because he wants to avoid seeing me?" was all Harry said, however. "My God, he must hate me."

"No, he doesn't," Hermione reassured her friend quickly, "he loves you, Harry. The only thing he hates is the idea that _you_ might still hate _him._"

"But that's just it!" Harry said, burying his face into his hands in frustration. "He only loves me because of the stupid Veela thing, which is why it's too weird! You can't change your opinion on someone that quickly, Hermione, you just can't."

"Actually, if you're a half-Veela, where your mate is concerned, you can," Hermione corrected him. "Think about it this way, alright? You wouldn't be his mate if you weren't practically perfect for each other. That's point one. Point _two_," she barged on as Harry opened his mouth, "the bond wouldn't have activated at all if Malfoy didn't already have some kind of feelings towards you."

Harry stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"No, Harry, I'm joking around with you," she answered sarcastically with a little smile. "Of course I'm serious. It's not like his Veela side is forcing him completely against his will into loving you, you know. The feelings were already there, it's just that his Inheritance has activated them and made him conscious of them."

"Oh." Harry considered this. "Well, that helps a little…" he mumbled, "…but, I don't know. I keep changing my mind about whether I think I can do this."

Hermione smiled gently at him. "What is there to do, really?" she asked. "All you have to do is open yourself up to the possibility of loving and being loved unconditionally for the rest of your life."

Harry smiled slightly as well.

"Pansy told me that the rumours are true; Draco is on his mother's side now, not his father's." Hermione told him.

"Really?" Harry looked stunned.

"Yep," Hermione confirmed. "You're being given the opportunity most people spend their whole lives looking for, Harry."

"Yeah, I guess I am," Harry said slowly.

"I'm not saying it's all going to be completely perfect," Hermione went on, "because it isn't. But if you're with a Veela, it's going to be pretty much as close as you can get to it."

"I think you're right," Harry said, seeming to gain confidence and conviction in what he was saying with every second that passed. "I think I can do this."

Hermione smiled at him, feeling tears begin to well in her eyes. She got up and moved over to hug him.

"It's going to be okay, Harry," she assured him. "Ron and I will be there for you every step of the way, you know that."

"Oh god, Ron!" Harry winced. "How on earth…"

"Don't think about that yet," Hermione said, releasing him and absently wiping her eyes. "Think about telling Draco first."

"You're right, as always." Harry said, and then groaned. "But how am I meant to tell him anything when he's in his bed, avoiding me like the plague?"

Hermione grinned despite herself. "Lunch is going to be soon. How about I meet up with my Slytherin contact to discuss a few things, and I'll get back to you?"

HPDM

_7:30pm_

"But_where is he, _Pansy?" Draco hissed at her again as they got up to leave the Great Hall, dinner having just finished. "He hasn't been here at all, and I didn't see him at lunch either."

"Maybe that's because you were being a coward and eating in the kitchens," Pansy pointed out helpfully.

Draco levelled her with a glare which clearly said, 'That's _not_ the point.'

"Look, why don't you try not worrying about Potter for a while?" Pansy suggested. "You wanted to avoid him, and you were clearly very successful at ignoring him during Transfiguration…"

He actually hadn't been. The second he saw Harry, Draco had become a puddle of goo, dripping all over Pansy in the back row as he avidly watched Harry's every move.

"…and I know you're probably sick of everyone fawning around you, asking about your wellbeing."

Draco wrinkled his nose, which Pansy took to mean agreement of some description.

"Why don't we go somewhere to do our homework where we know no-one's going to disturb you?" Pansy went on, willing her best friend with all her might to fall for this final plan. "Do you know the Come and Go Room?"

"The Room of Requirement?"

"That's the one. We can make sure that everyone else leaves you alone for a few hours. What do you think?"

"I guess…"

It was close enough to 'yes' for Pansy. "Alright!" she said cheerfully. "Let's go get our stuff and then we'll go!"

As they were leaving the Hall, Pansy glanced behind her, her eyes searching for Blaise. Upon sighting him, she winked, and he winked back. She'd finally managed to catch him up on what was happening, and he knew what the aim of tonight's plan was. In fact, he would be providing the cover story, in case anyone questioned Draco's whereabouts.

Granger was watching them exit from the other side of the Hall as well. They exchanged discreet thumbs-up before Pansy left the hall, dragging her half-veela friend behind her.

HPDM

_7:45pm – Room of Requirement_

Harry was pacing. He couldn't help it. He'd skipped dinner in the Great Hall in order to wait here, and although he wasn't hungry, thanks to the service of Dobby and the other Hogwarts house elves, he felt slightly squeamish from the combination of his relatively small meal and his excessively large amount of nerves.

Waiting was unbearable. He'd gone over in his head what he was going to say so many times in the past hour or so that the words just didn't make sense anymore.

Parkinson, Hermione had told him, had recruited Snape's help to get Draco up and moving around again. Apparently desperate not to seem so weak to the Potions Master, Draco had obeyed without question, although he hadn't been in the Hall during lunchtime.

Transfiguration had been difficult, purely because Harry could feel Draco's gaze the entire time and had wanted to just tell him already but knew he had to adhere to the plan.

Hermione had told him, when she'd said goodbye to him at the entrance to the Room just before dinner started, to expect Pansy and Draco any time after 7:30, when dinner officially finished. If they hadn't arrived by about 8:00, he could consider the plan failed and officially abort it.

Harry checked his watch. Fifteen minutes to go.

He'd barely resumed pacing, however, when he heard the soft _whoosh _of the door opening, and spun around.

Draco walked in, talking over his shoulder to someone. "…not being unreasonable, Pansy!" he was saying. "Maybe you're the one being unreasonable! Did that ever occur to…to…"

Mid sentence, he'd turned to face the room he was entering and his gaze had landed squarely on Harry, causing his sentence to trail off into nothingness.

He slowly turned back around to glare daggers into Pansy, who was standing in the doorway, smiling innocently.

"I am going to kill you," Draco ground out.

"We'll see, darling," Pansy said cheerfully, and before Draco could move she'd grabbed the door handle and pulled it closed.

Draco lunged at the door, rattling the handle and pounding on the wood. "Let me out, you evil bitch!" he shrieked, but received nothing but a cackle in response.

"Sorry, Draco dear, but I couldn't even if I wanted to," Pansy said, her voice muffled through the wood. "Have fun and all that." The sound of her retreating footsteps was audible, and then…silence.

Wincing, Draco turned slowly back around, only to suck in a breath when he realised he was locked in a room, alone with his mate…

And his mate was currently staring at him with the most curious expression on his face.

Draco tried to push down the multitude of urges that rose up inside him at the sight, but it wasn't even possible anymore; his Veela side was tired of being suppressed.

"Here to reject me again?" he asked quietly, in physical pain at the very thought.

Harry cocked his head, as though studying something mildly interesting. "Nope," he said simply.

"Yeah, right, Potter," Draco said scornfully, although his heart soared at his mate's statement.

Harry moved forward quite quickly, taking the steps required until he was standing directly in front of the Veela.

"Shut up for a second, would you?" Harry asked him. "I want to try something."

Draco barely had time to raise an eyebrow before Harry swooped, his mouth finding Draco's and his hands curling into Draco's hair.

_Oh._Draco moaned desperately, reaching nearly unbearable levels of lust at being – there was no other word for it – _claimed _like this. He kissed back, automatically tugging at Harry's waist to draw them closer together, and then his hands floated up into that damnably soft, messy hair. Out of his head flew any reason why he'd been avoiding Harry, because now he couldn't imagine why he'd ever stayed away from his mate.

Harry broke the kiss but didn't step away from him this time, and although Draco saw his mate's eyes were darkened with lust, as they had been the night before, this time they held no trace of fear.

"I know what you need to ask me, Draco, so go ahead and ask," Harry said, a smile creeping onto his face.

Draco stared at Harry, hardly daring to believe he'd heard him correctly. "Are…what…are you sure?" he managed.

Harry grinned, and it made Draco's knees tremble. "Positive."

"Harry, I am a half-Veela…" Draco began shakily, "and you are my mate, my life partner, and I ask you for acceptance of me and us as a unit, from now until the day we die."

Harry brushed a hand over Draco's pale cheek. "I accept you," he said softly, "and us, as a unit, from now until the day we die."

Both boys felt a rush of warmth from somewhere within, spreading outward and seeming to feed upon itself until it was all consuming.

Harry and Draco gave a unified gasp of shock when they felt something burning on their skin, just above where their heart would be.

Harry took off his robes and pushed the side of his shirt until a tiny silver snake, no bigger than a few centimetres, was visible, looking like it had been tattooed there.

Luckily Draco was too focused on the tiny golden lightning bolt that shone on his chest to be distracted by the first sighting of his mate's bare chest he'd ever received.

"They're like tattoos," Harry said in wonder. He prodded the little snake with a finger and yelped. "It's hot!"

At once, Draco had seized Harry's hand to inspect. "Are you alright?" he asked fretfully, examining the finger obsessively.

"I'm fine," Harry said, smiling at the Veela's protectiveness and gently taking his finger back. "I'm more than fine, actually."

Their eyes met and it was enough for hands to slide into hair and mouths to meet yet again, and this time, as Harry's mouth was ravaged by his new life-partner and he felt the soft burn of the snake tattoo on his chest, he couldn't imagine ever wanting to run away.

**AN: Yay! Well, I tortured you all for 17 chapters, but finally, they're together. Mini wave in celebration of me for dragging it out as long as humanly possible, which is what I set out to do.**

**UPDATE 07/06/2012: So I'm leaving the story here. I originally wrote this about 5 years ago and I'm not a fanfic writer anymore. At least I didn't leave it just before they got together? Lol thank you for reading it though, I've been constantly amazed for years at how much people love this fic, considering I read it now and think it's garbage. Thank you.**

**bleedingxheart**


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